general existential malaise pt 2

I roused myself out of bed to go on a run this morning, and not ten steps out of my house I was already crying. I thought to myself, this is pathetic / slightly poetic. Then I remembered the line from Rent, that's poetic / that's pathetic, and remembered that even our despair is already accounted for in the realm of art.

Which I guess should be refreshing, but it isn't. It just makes me feel like an idiot for being so sad about the things I am sad about when they are such small potatoes in terms of all the other things that have happened to people over the course of time / this year / today.

But then I'm like, who cares? I'm so sick of this idea that people shouldn't feel their emotions because worse things have happened to other people. Because, duh, if we really look at it, even the saddest thing that has happened to the most unlucky person we know personally, even if that thing is truly tragic, is dwarfed in comparison to the I don't know, typhoons that decimate entire cities in third world countries or the Irish potato famine or a bomb going off anywhere.

I don't know where the idea of comparing the sadness in one life to another came anyway, because it's such a logical fallacy. Of course it's important to train yourself in both empathy and sympathy, but at the end of the day you're still going to feel what happens to you the deepest and the most intensely, which means that you can only truly compare the things that are in your own realm of experience.

And thus, for me, I am sad, because something happened to me that had never happened to me before, and it departing from my life in slow increments that left me consistently confused and alone feels horrible. And I don't want to feel guilty for that anymore. I already feel shitty enough, guilt isn't another thing I want to hold.

That, on top of my continually worsening general existential malaise, isn't great. I don't know how the general existential malaise and the other thing really intertwine, anyway. I think I would be less sad about the thing I'm sad about if I didn't have the general existential malaise, but I'm sure that the sadness makes the malaise worse.

On to the malaise. It is not improving. Every day is still hard to get through, and the most frustrating thing (is there a most frustrating thing? Everything is frustrating) is that the list of things that make me feel better is growing shorter. The thrill in going to TGI Friday's alone to eat endless wings and drink bad cocktails has exited my life. Yoga is boring and frustrating. Running still helps, and I cross my fingers every day that it'll stay that way for long enough to help me on to the next place. Going to the movies alone is reaching its shelf life. I can't even eat the entire bag of popcorn anymore or care enough to get a refill to take home.

All these things sound silly alone, but that's not how they feel to me when I struggle to take up the time in every day with things that don't make me miserable. Everyone says I should watch TV, but honestly, I just can't -

People always think I'm being pretentious when I say this. And I don't think anyone really believes me when I try to explain, but I will once more: I wish I could watch TV to distract myself. That would be awesome. I would love to just lie down and binge watch a TV show until I'm ready to go to sleep or whatever next thing. But I can't. I turn on something on Netflix, I watch for five minutes, and then I'm so distracted and frustrated and annoyed that I turn it off. It just doesn't occupy my brain, it only makes me feel worse.

Reading and writing sometimes still help. Sometimes they don't. It depends on the day.

It's frustrating, because I know that even though I'm definitely more predisposed to feel sadness than the average person, via being more open to feeling it instead of pushing it away, I also know that I'm not at all (thankfully) the kind of depressed where you can't attain happiness like other people can. I know that happiness is attainable for me. There was a time when it wasn't even that hard. But there are certain circumstances that need to be in place for me to be truly happy, and it's not like they're that much to ask. It's not like I'm saying I need to have a perfect job and an amazing group of friends who are constantly around and a great relationship etc etc to be happy. I think that all I really need is more mental stimulation and more hope of interesting things to come.

And theoretically, those things aren't that hard to attain. But I need mental stimulation from more than just a book. I need to be able to engage with the things around me, and I've tried, for a long time, to engage with the things available to me here, and I just don't think that the problem is me anymore. And are there exciting things on the horizon? Yes, but they're far enough away that I can't really concentrate on them without driving myself insane. Which, as you can probably tell, I am already doing.