Preface: I don't know how this post is going to pan out.
I still have more than 4 hours left for Saturday, so I'm good with NaBloPoMo yet.
I have been trying to alter my day/mind so that I would have something neat to write about. "Saturday Snapshots" was the goal but that went to the crap shoot.
Today, I am in a major funk. I feel void and empty and really rather dead inside. So many things and lives going on around me. Yet I am quiet. Not sure how to join conversations. Hell, conversations don't really happen around me. It's hard when I seem to avoid the world.
I have that exciting thing that is keeping me going (I promise to write about it soon, I just need to formulate my thoughts). But is it wrong that I feel like I'm the only one who is excited about it?
Where am I going with this?
I am tired of being so alone. Day in, day out. I talk to myself (and my dog). I wander around my house just staring at... nothing. I have put off going to the supermarket. It started with, "I really need some things, but I'll go tomorrow." Then it turned into, "maybe on the weekend." Then the weekend comes and goes and it's now the following weekend. I'm not kidding when I say my fridge is EMPTY. I had a couple cans of diet ginger ale, eggs and cheese. Oh and coffee cream. I'm not even joking. I almost took a picture but was afraid people might think I'm starving to death. So I went to the supermarket. I picked things up and put them back over and over again. I kept justifying that it was too expensive. Or that it would just end up in the compost heap. So when I left all I bought was $30 worth of groceries. I never cook any more. I don't even heat shit up. I eat corn out of a can and granola bars. I have no desire or craving for anything specific. I'm vegetarian and gluten-free and to be honest I'm just fucking sick of the grocery store.
I know, being alone and grocery shopping are not really connected but they are in my brain. It's no secret that I am heavily depressed and medicated. I've made that pretty public. This has been going on for a long time. I have come to use this blog as a way of avoiding the situation. I'm not avoiding right now. The loneliness amplifies those feelings. I don't care to eat when I am this way. I don't want to cook for one. Not just any "one" but me, the one who doesn't eat a whole lot to begin with. It's a waste of time. It's not my style. I love to cook for other people.
So there are no snapshots for today. Not even the huge field of black and white moo cows that I cycled by earlier was able to stop me. I hesitating for a second because I really wanted to take a picture of them. Then the inner miserable bitch came to the surface and said, "What's the fucking point." More like my inner Eeyore.