Happy Happy Joy Joy

One thing I used to do was repress any and all emotions that I didn’t like. By ignoring them, I believed that they didn’t exist and that I was just as happy as I wanted to be. Over time, I started feeling numb because I was never truly feeling what my body and mind was telling me I needed to feel. I would punch walls, hurt people, lash out, all because I couldn’t contain all those repressed emotions forever. Writing helped. Writing helps. But there was something I wasn’t doing, and I didn’t know what that was. I was always an emotional person, but I don’t think they were for the right reasons. During therapy, I learned to let go and feel everything. Every lingering emotion spilled out and I felt everything, and it felt good.

I think I need regular people in my life. By that I mean people — friends — I see on a semi-regular basis. Maybe not daily, but at least a few times a week. Sports, maybe. Today I went to work, and I was the only person there, and everything was turned off, locked down, and lonely. I needed to do some things because today was my last day until the 5th of January, but nobody was there, and that made me feel sad. The silence and solitude helped me get more done than I planned for, and besides a brief stop at the grocery store, I spent today with practically no human contact. But don’t feel sorry for me since this was by choice. I was invited to my sister’s place to have Christmas dinner with her and her family, but I had to work out and eat well and read and write. I had to do what I need to do every day, so I turned them down for tonight, Christmas Eve. I’m coming tomorrow to their house to see them, but that’s tomorrow and tonight’s right now.

Even though most everything went well today, I feel low, and since I’ve been thinking about people all day, I believe it’s because I’m lonely. I’m alone and lonely, and that’s been true for too long. I keep saying I have to do something about it, but I don’t. I’m not. I’m not doing anything about it and I keep telling myself I need to do something about it but I don’t and it’s hilariously frustrating. I can tell my body to do so much, but when I just need to go somewhere and just talk to people, I can’t. I won’t. I don’t know. Social anxiety, maybe? I love people, though. I’m good with people. I like people and (some) people like me. I wish this was easier, but it’s not, and it’s something I have to keep working on.

I keep thinking about my past and all my missed opportunities, opportunities that could have made my life so different today. And when I dwell on the past, I get sad. It just comes with the territory now, and I hate feeling complacent about it, but I am. And I hate that this is the entry I’m writing for Christmas Eve. This is supposed to be a happy day. Happy happy joy joy.

Merry Christmas, everyone.