(I had to look up how to spell “fidgety.” All my verbal skills are detetriorating, I tell you.)
Am I really going to write this drek? But of course.
(When in doubt, put it on paper. Or even better, the web.)
I read briefly on learned helplessness and its correlate with depression, and (as I’ve said in another context) even when I know why a thing happens, it doesn’t change how I feel.
(Certain things have happened to disrupt my erstwhile foolish contentment.)
(Not that the following is at all related. I am the king of non-sequiturs. But…) Lately I have been facing the world with a kind of passive-aggresivity, slightly pissed off at everything and everyone. Despite recognizing that certain things are largely out of my control, my convoluted control-freakishness (yes I am a closet type A personality that has been living in denial for the longest time) keeps wanting to blame myself for all the things that don’t turn out right. Despite knowing that people are just crazy and that it’s not my fault, I keep thinking that there is something wrong with me. (I mean, sure, I’m not perfect, but shit…) I am starting to believe that this orgy of non-stop misery is of divine etiology. I must’ve done some really fucked up shit in my past life or something.
(Have you ever had a delusion where you start thinking that you’re not really alive anymore, that where you actually are right now is Hell? OK, I admit it. I’ve been watching too much of “The Matrix”)
Fuck it. I’m not even going to think about it anymore. Whatever happens, happens.