I’m not feeling particularly happy at the moment. I feel like I’m being swept along in the wash of life, just another piece of flotsam and jetsam, scraped by sticks and trailing foam and muck. I don’t feel like I’m a person living a conscious life right now, I feel like someone who’s barely surviving and getting through days by leaning hard on soma-devices: junk-food, internet and tv-shows, not alcohol though.

Yeah, not-alcohol. It’s just about my one saving grace right now. But I’ve been thinking about it. Boy have I been thinking about it. I’m feeling a bit frustrated and useless in my existence right now, and so the oblivion-call of some alcoholic time out has a certain attractiveness. It’s like the heart-raising message of “this too will pass” has taken hold in my brain and twisted into something black and unhealthy; “just wait” is the new call in my mind, “just wait it out, screw all thoughts of agency, wait away your life until things get better, until you magically are better, but not through changing anything.”

But change will come. As I curl ever further around myself, reacting always, never acting, weaving my future personality out of choices made to survive rather than live, what will I become? I will fester inside my black cocoon. Each thread I weave around myself is coated in disappointment and negativity. I can’t afford to sit in that! I can’t afford to live in what that will ferment into!

I won’t.

Yuletide approaches and it’s getting hard to imagine it without alcoholic celebration. But when I examine my motivation for indulging in drinking, it’s escapist. Again. Why do I want to escape so much? Is life so very hard?

I feel like my to-do list is an infinite sequence of pointless tasks and busy-work. To look good. I don’t want to do that shit.

I guess sometimes it’s important to respect “appearances”.

There’s an on-going course for 2.5 hours on Thursday evenings for the Maths teachers in my school. I’ve already written it off as pointless, though – to be fair – I haven’t actually attended any of them. Reports that have returned have confirmed my opinion. I feel a strong obligation to attend them, but I also violently and vigorously do not want to go to them. Jesus, life is without enough time and energy as it is. Expend 2.5 hours of my precious week on something with a draining-factor of 3 – or higher when you count in the socialising with a group that contains some pretty difficult personalities as a subset.

Fuck. That. Shit.

This too will pass.

The expectation to attend will pass as the course finishes. Will it even be remembered that I didn’t go? Probably by one or two people, but I doubt in any enduring way.

There’s rain falling outside right now, the sky has the white-grey clouds of snow /ice. I want to run this morning, but it’s not really super appealing. Well, I want to “have run”. I’m feeling dissatisfied with my body again. It goes to show that it’s not really connected to my weight or health all that much, given that I’m a lot fitter and lighter than I was a few months back, back when I was feeling a good bit more self-content. I keep trying to decide to be happy, or content.

I’m just not feeling it.

That’s when the clarion call of oblivion-in-a-glass becomes sharpest. It’s not just oblivion, you see, it’s a glass of potential. Drunk allows you to life your imagined life so keenly for the evening. Oh, it takes it away with interest the following day, but for the time you’re living the fantasy? That feels pretty good.

You know what feels better? Choosing and directing your own life and living it with attention an presence. I know this because I remember that brief span of time when I was doing it.

I just feel so tired and unmotivated right now.

I’m worried about gifts of bottles of wine this Christmas. They’re inevitable and they’ll sit around in our house calling and cajoling and promising and wheedling – whining about how it’s holiday-time and how I “deserve” to take a break. Take a break? Why is oblivion a break? It’s only a break if you hate your life.

I feel a little bit like I hate my life right now.

Hate’s probably too strong, but I’m feeling kind of unfulfilled. I don’t feel particularly grateful for all the gifts I already have either.

I think some search for gratitude wouldn’t go astray today.