This Is The Way That My Sadness Made Me

I feel so down right now. Just when I thought I was already at rock bottom, I sink deeper. There are moments when I think I should tell someone but then I snap out of it and realise I can’t. To tell somebody would be the end of this life as I know it. Until I know what the fuck is going on with me, I certainly don’t have anything to look forward to in a new life. If I told my wife, I would be destroying her world, just like that. I can’t do that to her. I love her too much. My best friend has a lot on as she prepares for the London Marathon in a few weeks. She’s stressing out about it as it is. I can’t put this on her too. That would be really fucking selfish of me.

Take Me Away From Here

Last night, I was at another gig. My friends are currently on tour so I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to see them – especially as one of their songs really sums up how I feel a lot of the time. Needless to say, before going to the gig, anxiety kicked in. That familiar feeling of dread, panic and uncertainty which would only bring with it social awkwardness.

The Morning After

Following on from last night, I’ve been doing a lot more thinking. Not continuously. It sort of comes in bits. My mind is full of thoughts zooming around, crashing into each other. Every now and then, something will hit me and I’ll explore it a little, before it’s rudely interrupted by the next thing.

Regardless of what I said last night and how I feel about things, it’s not just about me. It’s about others too and it’s slowly dawning on me that I’m not something my wife can deal with. It’s not something she should have to deal with. The same goes for my friends too.