Spring is here and while it's great to see the dull canvas of the world enlivened by daffodils and cherry blossoms, my daily routine has become fairly miserable. I don't get out much, and when I do I feel like I'm sloshing through a shallow sea of filth. The faces of people on the street or in the grocery store seem grotesque and menacing. The city -society in general- feels like it is collapsing in on itself. Everything is expensive, meals are disappointing, My default state of mind is a slurry of anxiety and paranoia and discomfort.
February was especially brutal. On top of all the other issues I'm battling, including a toxic workplace and my bum foot acting up, I had to get a rotten tooth pulled. The next day I had my cat put to sleep. He was only eight but was suffering from stage 4 kidney disease, which they caught too late to treat. The apartment feels so empty now, the only sound comes from the animal upstairs thundering back and forth in the middle of the night. I'm drinking nearly every night, and shoveling as much junk food into my gullet as I can. As a result, I've put on weight, which helps keep me mired in a pit of self-loathing. I can't seem to stop telling myself I am fat and balding and ugly and will obviously never be loved or touched by a woman ever again. It does no good to think this way, I know; it only serves to prove what a weak fuck-up I am. But it's so hard to fight that current, and I'm so tired, and I don't even have a kitty to greet me when I come home.
I have been trying to get out more when I can summon the energy. Last weekend the sun resurfaced for a few days, and I went to some poetry readings and a dance recital, which were all stimulating. A cute woman in line at the grocery store told me I looked great and that she loved my outfit. Best of all, I spent the day with a friend driving to the Maryhill Museum, taking in the beauty of the gorge on the way. These things have all been nurturing, as have the books I've been devouring and the music I've been destroying my hearing with. And I'm looking forward to a day trip to Seattle followed by a longer vacation at the end of May. But I go home every night drained and disheartened and unable to paint or write or even draw much. I can no longer fight the current of entropy. I want to just let my bloated body go limp as a rotting sea cow and allow the whirlpool to suck me down, down into its depths.
