I haven’t written here in a number of days. Writing again is foreign. Last time I wrote, I think I was on about having no heart and just not caring. You know after drinking a bottle of wine in about six hours chased by two medium sized pizzas; countless hours of video game playing just to fill in the time. I have a fist full of dollars in my bank account,my home is a mess, just an absolute wreck. I neglect friends, ignore family, and push away people who genuinely care about me.

Self indulgent pity party aside. This is nothing new to me. My mood swing pendulum his a wide swath. Over the years, when I am in my good way, I would be ambitious and I was going to fix everything in my life and I couldn’t do it soon enough. My resolve would diminish considerably as my depression would grow. Now, when I’m not in a depressive funk, I’ve learned to fear commitments. I know that my depression comes with a collateral damage to. Fine if it was just myself that I was hurting, but I’m not the only one I’m hurting, people around me, too. You’ll find I don’t keep people around me. Not too close, at least. Just enough that . . .

Uhg. Nevermind. Long story short: I don’t care. My motivational system is such that the things I should care about, I don’t. All time and effort is used to waste time, to ride out the mood, to wait until I feel better and my motivation returns.

I have to do something different from what I am doing. What I am doing is not working for me. I know and have known for a long time. Something is wrong and needs fixing and that something is bigger than me. I doubt I can will myself out of my dysfunction, or discipline myself past my mood.

Yeah, caring beyond despondence the best I can muster is a righteous anger over the situation. I am right to be frustrated over the situation. I genuinely hope I can tap into that emotion to find some motivation to change my situation.

God dammit.