Low Tide

Maybe this is what depression looks like.

I have no interest in anything.  I do only what I have to in order to survive. Work. Shop. Maybe sleep.


I would like to say that finally definitively ended things with the Filipina, but short of ghosting her, as forcefully suggested by my BFF, nothing seems to properly end it. 

[Story Time]
I drove her to the airport, as she's gone for two weeks visiting family, and when she said we should discuss where we were at I said I was waiting until she wasn't under so much stress.  She replied that she's always in a state of stress.  I told her I didn't want to be with her.

When she had returned a couple of weeks ago, after a week at a retreat, I thought we had broken up. She said that she couldn't abide by the agreement we had made.  But she "wouldn't abandon me in my time of need".  I thought she meant be friends.

[Digression]

I'm too depressed to write about being depressed.  These words are an effort, in a way that they've never been.  I'm skipping over details. The storyline has gaps.

[Story Continuation]

Co-dependent. I felt so free when we were apart, so free when I thought it was over.  But she won't let go and I won't be disciplined in my refusal of her love.  I thought that her being a thousand miles away would allow me to not communicate with her and let things die down, but there has been regular texting.

Why is it bad to be with her?

All the pushing she does, to make me better, just brings me down more.

"Find a better job" equates with "focus on how crappy your life is, and how hard it will be to find another job."

"See a counselor" is good advice, but my avoidance skills are too powerful.  Absolutely anything that would improve matters - exercise, participate in social activities, read, meditate - I find excuses to skip, if I even put that much energy into it.

[To be continued]

There's so much, but I can't. I just can't.