Happy Before I’m 30: Things Are Getting Worse

I tend not to believe in karma or fate, which honestly makes it so much more frustrating when things start going against you. When you believe in these concepts, put some trust in them, it makes it easier to accept that the cosmic scales are being balanced or that this was going to happen all along. When you don’t, you just…have to accept that things aren’t going to be going your way, even if you try to fix it. When it rains, it pours.
My cat is in the hospital right now. I’ve had to spend a decent chunk of my savings for that, but I couldn’t in good conscience have him put down when I knew I could afford the procedure. To show his appreciation, the little bastard ripped out his catheter this morning before it had finished what it needed to do, so he has to go back under for another procedure. He has never not been a jerk, but he’s still my little buddy, just would’ve been cool if he let us know he had crystals in his urethra.
My anxiety is killing me these days. Every morning I wake up with what feels like a swarm of bees in my stomach, and I spend the rest of my day just trying to calm that down enough to be a normal person, only for the process to start over again the next day. I’m at a point where I miss the crushing depression because then I wasn’t anxious about anything.
A friend cut me out of their life. Honestly, probably for the best for my mental health in the long run, but I can’t stop dreaming about them, to the point where I don’t want to dream ever again. I just want to forget. I want to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind them out of my brain, without naked Mark Ruffalo dancing over my sleeping body. Maybe a little dancing.
I want to drink so bad. Normally this isn’t much of an urge for me, I just move my addiction somewhere else, but today nothing would make me happier than getting drunk and going to a focus group I have this afternoon to make some wild proclamations about Gatorade. Honestly I might do that regardless of sobriety level. It was so much easier to handle my problems with a few drinks in me because I could just make a terrible decision and if it was bad, who cares I’m drunk? I wish I’d had that as an excuse to fall back on for the last month.
I guess the silver lining here is that I’m not depressed. I mean I am definitely sad, but I know that I’m truly feeling that emotion, not just falling back on it because its all I have. Had this been two or three months ago, I would’ve been numb to all of this. I would have seen what was happening around me and reacted like how I thought other people wanted me to react, but instead I’m feeling things and reacting like a normal person. Sure, things are bad, but at least I know that. I haven’t buried my head deeper in the sand in the hopes that when I pop back up, things are going to be better.
I’m going to keep working on myself. This isn’t a plea for pity or for help, this is a manifesto of defiance. I am not going to drink. I am not going to let my anxiety overwhelm me. I am not going to let one person’s treatment of me define who I am, even if I keep dreaming that we’re on a train together with that weird hippo thing from that Okja movie on Netflix. I am going to let my cat get better, take care of him, and never let him die because we made a deal when he was six months old. Don’t challenge me on that last one I’m very sensitive right now.
So yes, things are rough. Things might get worse, things might get better, but there isn’t anything in this world we can’t handle if we put our minds to it, and refuse to wallow in self-pity and sadness when I know I can go out there and make things better. Damn the man, save the Empire. I am going to continue listening to music from Scrubs though. They really nailed the sad white guy vibe.
I love you all, even though I hate a few of you.