It’s happening again

That feeling is back. The nights are long. If I’m not getting up for work, I’m not getting up at all. I’m losing interest in everything and everyone. I’ll be glad when Christmas is over.

I’m replaying all the mistakes I’ve made in my head. I’m obsessing over missed opportunities. I’m reminiscing over the motivated and creative person I used to be. Someone with purpose or at least the means and intention to find purpose.

So many people I’ve let slip away. Loving individuals whom I’ve not responded to, or made the effort to meet.

I’m romanticising those who’ve hurt me. It’s probably the time of year.

Smoking weed is more boring than ever. I should stop but, then, what have I got to look forward to in the evenings?

The most frightening thing of all is, the urge is returning. I have the desire to get so immensely shit faced. I’d even find the hangover cathartic. I always did. I’m 2 years sober and haven’t wanted to drink so immensely since I stopped.

I’m not a lazy person. I exercise, work and then some. I spent my leave working elsewhere as I knew the feeling was coming. Now it’s here. I’m so lonely and so ungrateful.