Wah Wah

I don’t know how to get through this. I’m trying, I really am, but, not to sound like a quitter, it’s just so fucking hard. I no longer know where the depression ends and I begin, like a whiny, mopey Ouroborus. Even my best friends have grown weary of my tears and the constant ups and downs, offering little more than an exasperated “I don’t know how to help you”.

I was doing so well. I had started jogging and doing yoga. I was writing again. I had gotten in touch with old friends and even made plans to get together them. I started exploring my city a bit more. I found out I was accepted into the classics program at the University of Toronto for the fall semester. Things were really comin’ up Alex. But with every step forward there are two steps backwards.

Slowly, I have slipped back into familiarity; I am an addict and my drug of choice is gloom. 

Despite my staunch atheism, I feel as though I must have done something wrong to deserve this and, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what that was nor can I even begin to figure out how to fix it. 

I feel like going all biblical on this shit and ripping my clothes, tearing out my hair and crying out “why me, God, why me?!”. All I want is the chance to try and turn this frown upside down but every time I start to more shit gets thrown my way. Someone’s gotta be having fun on this roller-coaster because I am not fucking amused.

Or am I doing this to myself? We are each responsible for ourselves; our attitudes; our behaviours. Why should I be any different?

I want to be the best person I can be. I want to be the pillar of strength for everyone around me and I want to be a joy to be with and I want to be missed. I want to be important to people who are important to me. No matter how hard I try to be that person I always come up short. Whether I am expecting too much or whether I am letting people down, there is no reprieve from my failings.

I am so far from perfect I want to die. I make huge mistakes in my romantic life, the kinds of mistakes that if you are quiet in Vancouver you can hear the chorus of “I told you so(s)” from Toronto; I am giving to the point of ridiculous and I expect the same in return; I’m lazy and petty and stubborn, I procrastinate, I am quick to judge, jealousies wreak havoc on my psyche. I have more flaws than space will allow and all of those flaws have played such a powerful role in this depression that it is hard not to imagine them causing it in the first place.

 So, am I selfish and pathetic and weak and stupid or is my life some sort of cosmic joke — a Greek tragedy of good intentions meeting fatal flaws? 

There seems to be no ready answer so I suppose this is going to be one of those cliff-hanger, “tune in next week” kind of deals for you, dear reader, and for me. I know I’ll be waiting with bated breath.