If I were an alcoholic, I'd be the best one ever

So here's to a crappy start to another year.

I am half a world away from where I was last year at this point, but things inside of me haven't changed much. I seem to have plunged right back into my depression. So much so that little things rake up the junk settled around that itchy little hole inside of my chest, straining the insides of my eyes and inducing an explosive headache. Tears have run out on me too. All I have is 88 cent a bottle of cheap 7 Up helping me wade through my weekends filled with miserable mush and gore.

I currently despise all human contact. Not because I hate them, but it's more of a kind of a rebellion. They make me feel insignificant, invisible, unworthy - and frankly they have no idea what they are up against. I am glad I am able to look after myself even when I am so messed up. I am glad I am not one of those unfortunate people who lose complete touch with themselves in an effort to get back at the world. But I miss being happy nevertheless. I miss looking forward to my birthday, which happens to be a week from now, in a happy daze. I miss eating proper meals with respectable amounts of carbohydrates in them. No, don't get me wrong, I am currently gorging only and only on extremely high fat junk, so my self esteem is on its way down the drain as well.

It's funny how I always claimed to be a loner, because I now realise that I probably wasn't one ever. Now that I think of it, I really blame the people around me for it. I know that is wrong in more ways than I can possibly think of, but that's just how I feel now. I have been abandoned mid-flight more than once, and it hurt so much that I gave up on society. I, however, did manage to bounce back again, but only when I got tired of the darkness and the night after night of crappy movies, I guess. Right now, I am no where close to feeling good about anything, atleast that is what I keep thinking, but then the smallest semblance of smile from someone cheers me up, even just a tiny bit, and I realise how wrong I am about myself. People do make a difference, a big one that too. Maybe that's the problem?

Anyway, I realise I have no idea what is going on inside of that haunted head of mine. And having equally messed up people around me doesn't help at all. It makes me cranky and jumpy and jealous. Jealous, of my friends who spent their new years walking around Times Square and drinking to the fireworks at NYC. Jealous of all the people in love, people who have people to care for them. Jealous, of all the dimmed lights in the basements of the cozy little houses next to where I live.

Nights give way to days, I try to shake the thoughts out, but the pain remains. It may be corny, but it really really hurts.




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