Sanctimonious Self Pity Post

In some ways I feel like I just got out of a relationship that was all the worst things about being an adult combined with the magic of not wanting to be alone. I guess it happens, the circumstantial romance. The, well, you’re here, I guess we can fuck sort of hook ups. The mutual descent into codependently ignoring our problems, but we have each other to assure each other, so that’s okay. 

The sadness I feel is akin to the sadness I feel every time I have to kick a nascent sleeping pill habit. I take the sleeping pills so I can fade away from reality and live in a netherworld of maybes and could have beens. But it gets out of hand, and then I find myself stuck with the ugliness of a grey reality with neon lights, and I’m sleepless and sad and I could take more sleeping pills to solve the problem, but it’s probably better if I just take large doses of full blown pain and deal with it now before it’s too late. Before I wake up one day, in his bed, asking myself, “Why am I dating someone who doesn’t even have a job?”

And why did I put myself through this in the first place. This self inflicted misery is tiresome, and I push myself through these days hoping that something at some point in the future will make things seem exciting again. Even drinking has gotten boring.