So, Dad is dying. I’m still not sure how I feel about all of this. I’m at odds with his conduct. He’s actively emotionally manipulating people again. At a time when we should all be standing together he’s making himself the most unlovable person. Against the pity and the greed, his very real battle with cancer is being lost.
To top it off I’ve returned to feeling lonely. Although it’s hard to judge whether it’s the culmination of everything going on around me, my continuing/progressing loneliness or whether it’s just “time enough” that I have another bout with depression. This time feels particularly rough. My heart is akin to lead and I have visions of tearing the wretched thing from my chest.
Perhaps I should seek help; go back down the path of medication? I feel like it is the one thing that inhibits me. I piss so much time and energy into the wind. I’m becoming less creative over time. This is the first time I’ve actively written in months. I keep putting it off, hoping that slow-dripping saline that is my apathy will run its course and I will subsequently feel better.
But I never do.