Nashville, Sunday, 630a

 So I'm awake. I've been awake for an hour. I used to try to make myself be still and lie there until a normal hour like 8a or 9a, but I'm trying to be a bit more flexible with my rules. 

Since I'm in pseudo-vacation mode, I can nap or rest in the day if I want. But it's a blurry line to walk because the routine is there to help me structure my day and get better more regular sleep. 

Already checked my work calendar for tomorrow, and I don't have any early meetings. Yay!

Yesterday was another full day of just reading blog posts. I got hungry and went down to the BBQ place at the end of the block. It was nice and cool. My jacket would've been nice, lol!

Oh well, I was outside for less than 5 minute. I lived.

I scarfed down those ribs. And even the normally watery greens were able to be swallowed.

In the end, ordering online made me save about $11 because I could make an easy substitution that I would've been too timid to ask for. Yay!

I got everything I wanted. I love when that happens! So I went from being food poor to being food rich because my meal kit is due to arrive on Tuesday.

I still have about 3 slices of pizza left, a 1/2 chicken and another serving of leftover ribs/brisket. I really shouldn't need to buy any more food at least until next weekend. 

I still haven't made my way to Kroger to get some oil and seasoning for the meal kit. I was tempted to just go to the convenience store to see if they had a small bottle. But I also think I might want to get some fruits/veggies for at least a couple days. 

I briefly browsed Meetup last night but nothing felt too compelling. I will say I was inching to go outdoors yesterday, but the weather was just too cool for my liking. Maybe it'd been different if I'd brought more appropriate outdoor gear, but I doubt it. Just good ole Brain playing tricks on me.

Oh! Speaking of Brain, I was reading thepowerofthrift yesterday and she calls her depressive brain Precious. It was nice to see someone else whose brain tricks them like mine. She says she actually has a diagnosis of severe clinical depression. 

But I could relate to some of her musings...

This entrenched sadness, I call her Precious, lives in the center of my bones, in my deoxyribonucleic acid, in the chemicals in my brain and is as much a part of my sense of self as my financial acumen, my wit, my height. Precious is a big part of the reason I went for early retirement and why I spend so much of my time contemplating happiness and how to achieve it. I yearn to feel some semblance of control.

With every birthday candle blown, every shooting star located, every coin thrown into a designated water spot, I used my wishes only to beg the universe for a coffin in the ground, to push the fast-forward button on my life, to stop feeling so freaking empty.

I was shy, but I made friends without much effort. I earned good grades easily enough. I was physically healthy. I wanted for nothing.

Except death.

It hurt to breathe. I would wake up in the morning devastated that I had to live another day. I felt exhausted all the time by the effort to pretend that I didn’t despise existence. I thought the world was cruel and unfair and everything felt wrong. I had no idea where these feelings came from, but I desperately wanted oblivion.

What I do understand is that when I’m taking my medication, I feel better. I’m not as emotional. I don’t think about death or dwell on the injustices or despair at the meaninglessness.

It’s not anxiety, exactly. It’s a sadness so deep, I can feel it in each heartbeat. No matter how much attention I draw to my breath, the heart continues to weep. It’s exhausted.

I’m tired and I don’t want to play anymore. But I don’t get to decide when I’m doing playing. I’ve learned to just live with the woe and wave shiny objects at my face to distract me from my heart’s laments.

School! Work! New habits! Lists! Boy! Social! Travel! Write! Do! Accomplish! Finish!

You know, live a life that’s full of intention.

God, that sounds exhausting. I’m so tired.

My default is sad. Unless I’m constantly distracting myself, my mind slinks down into darkness. I’m bad at everything. Even hyperbole.*

I’m an obliger and do wonders with living up to other people’s expectations. When a parent or a teacher or a professor or a boss tells me what to do, I do it. I’m easily led and I aim to please. You betcha.

But as a retired grown-up, I didn’t have anyone telling me what to do. Drifting malaise resulted.

I needed accountability.

So, in January 2019, I followed my mother’s advice and found a part-time job to whittle away the time before death.

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So those are excerpts. I don't relate to everything she said. What really perked my ears up are the distractions we use the whittle away the time before death. (To me, this is what all humans are doing, but our brains just kind of think it's pointless when you can just skip to the end.) I think she admitted to being institutionalized, so it gives me some hope that I'm not as far gone as I could be. And I don't feel that way all the time. But when I am feeling that way, it does feel like I've always felt the way. But now that I track my moods and am admitting it out loud, I know it's not true. 

Did I ever tell you that when I was lamenting to my therapist about dating, he asked if I had to date white guys? To me it seemed to suggest, I should date black guys. But I hate the presumption that that would solve the issue. 

I have felt for awhile that on issues of race, this guy just doesn't get it. But honestly, I'm not really interested in looking for another therapist. I'm not entirely sure what the purpose of therapy is to know what to look for. So for now, he's good enough. It's nice having someone to talk to. And it's nice having a man to talk to. In my mind, it's good practice. But since I've erased 'life partner' from my life to-do list, I'm not sure what it's good practice for. Old habits die hard I guess.

Even as I sit here, part of me desperately wants to join Hinge....just to see, I'm telling myself. Just to look. When really it's ...just to emotionally self-injure myself. I've come so far. I haven't had to deal with active romantic entanglement for 4 months. I'd love to be boy-sober for a longer period of time than that. I say active because the remnants of what I'm dealing with is just mental entanglements. 

But I live close to a Medical Center, and there's just something so alluring about dating a doctor. That's like the holy grail of boyfriends right! 

So it's just like a sex addict grazing past a strip club. Or an alcoholic going on a booze cruise or pub crawl. My spidey senses are tingling but this isn't good for me. I can't have just one sip.