What I always end up thinking about on my way home…

I’ve been thinking lately about self-medicating and alcohol and I’d always assumed I was guilty of it until today it dawned on me, as I sat on the bus after having 2 beers at a bar in my old neighborhood, I’m actually at my worst after drinking.

I feel an intense pressure most of the time – that I should have been in a band ten years ago, that Greystone will never go anywhere and I’m a bad leader, that I shouldn’t still be cooking, that I’m an awful boyfriend, an awful person, that I’m not good-looking enough and it’s only getting worse with age – and it goes away for a minute during my first couple beers but then at the end of the night it’s worse than before. With the fierce determination of the drunk I think I should have committed suicide years ago.

And it’s a bit odd because I’m pretty close to my dream life – I have a band, I have a loving, beautiful girlfriend, I have more employment than I could ever want – I have so much going for me that it’s easy to think there must be something inherently wrong with me to still wish a car hits me every time I step into a cross-walk.

I’m at the point where I don’t feel ashamed or hesitant to admit I don’t really care about anything. I want to, I want to care about work, the band, my friends, etc. Ultimately I hold on intellectually to the knowledge that my death would be devastating for everyone but I don’t actually feel the emotional truth of it. And actually I felt vain writing that.

I think I’m passed all the silly teenage reasons for wanting to die, I just feel morose at the thought of living through my thirties as this person.

Because I’m only truly happy a few hours a week. When band stuff is going well, when Simone and I have a free day together, or when I can spend time with friends I can be myself around. 4 or 5 hours out of 168? 8.4% of a week? Would you keep watching a movie that was 8.4% worth while? I often think of life as an RPG and if this were one I’d definitely reboot the game and start over. The thing about RPGs is you don’t age, time doesn’t pass, when you’re leveling up or stuck on something for a while. In real life it’s taken me so long to get to the point where I’m basically getting my life together and it feels like it’s too late. It took thirty years learn all the things I wanted to know by 15. Will I know by fifty all the things I wanted to know by thirty?

I’ve really spent the last few years diligently staying motivated and positive but I’m exhausted and it all started to feel like a lie. I think what a lot of people might see as arrogance is just the fact that I’m too depressed to be nice right now. Deep down I just wish I could pause life and come back when I’m feeling up to it but time keeps burning. So I have to keep spinning the plates for everyone around me even though I’ve stopped caring and wouldn’t mind at all if they crashed to the floor.


Singer/songwriter, jerk.

Posted in Depression & Suicide, Uncategorized

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