I managed to get myself focused back on work again. I know i'm being short with everyone, but fuck it. J is getting the moody me where one minute i can joke around and be okay and the next minute i am completely detached. My mind isn't really here, it's somewhere down in that vault trying to stay away from the darkness that seeps through every crack. The images keep me awake at night, those thoughts that lay dormant for a while are wakening. Were those whispers i just heard telling me to do things just my own thoughts reflected or something else? Am i going crazy?
This isn't about losing a friend any more, i've gone off on a much more self-absorbed tangent. That's the way it tends to go. I can't feel anything properly any more because as soon as there is some overwhelming emotion in my life it triggers shit and i end up manic or depressed or just an anxious mess. I try lock myself into work, into overtime, into technical problems that will distract me. That's what i did for years, just working and drinking to get through the days. At least i didn't kill myself, but it wasn't much of a life either. Is it really better to survive when surviving means dodging the issue, squandering a life?
My therapist asked me about the only time i've made a serious attempt on my life and why i wanted to do it then. It chilled me when i realized that every single reason is still on my list now, almost 10 years later. I'd like to think i'm more mature, that i'm able to deal with it all a lot better, but when things get bad i don't really know.