I miss writing and reading and doing things that take focus. I miss being able to just stop doing mind-numbing, time-wasting shit and start doing the things I really want to do. I miss having — if not healthy, at least — productive hobbies. I used to zone out and read four books in a week. Or build several websites from scratch; learning new code and new web standards along the way. I used to brainstorm story ideas; build character profiles, outline plot points, research mythology. I would just lose myself in whatever interested me and channel all my emotional energy — mostly negative — into something creative and non-destructive.
Let’s be very clear, none of that is healthy or normal. But coping mechanisms that don’t hurt are better than nothing. And now, I just think about the things I want to do but have neither the will or the energy to do them. Then I hate myself for being distracted or being lazy and it just feeds into the depression that deprives me of the will or the energy. One begets the other . An Ouroboros of self-loathing. An infinite cycle.
All most people want is to be happy. All I want is to be able to distract myself from being unhappy. And I can’t even muster the strength to do that. Fuck.