The Answer To A Bad Mood Is Nothing Outside Of Me
Yesterday was wank. I spent the day in self-destructive form.
Started drinking coffee in the morning to help with work and it all got too much and I had to retire to bed from the anxiety.
Then I fell asleep and woke up in an even worse mood. Went to the store and bought some Portuguese Pot Noodles and some extra hot tabasco sauce and poured as much of it on as possible. Not even that hot. Just vinegary. Didn’t sleep brilliantly thanks to the ensuing heartburn and ring sting.
Did it all on purpose to escape the invasive thoughts that were plaguing me. They aren’t MY thoughts. They aren’t even useful or true. I used alcohol in the past to obliterate them, that didn’t work. I tried Nytol to stop them at night and that didn’t work either. Tried cannabis over the summer and guess what? Same thing. It’s one thing having an addictive personality and it’s another trying to stop something repeatedly through ineffective means.
I’ve tried citalopram in the past and it just slows the thoughts down. The thoughts are still there. I don’t need to think. What are these thoughts adding? They aren’t even thoughts of self-harm or shit like that. It’s mostly reflecting over a past I can’t seem to escape from even though it’s been gone a long time. Silly shit like awful first dates that are outside the remit of all that 12 step moral inventory wank.
Cringing the day away. Projecting the image of an angry man to make a poor attempt at concealing a sensitive nature. Sensitive to the cringe more than anything and my God it’d be beautiful if it stopped. But guess what? None of it is real. It’s not shit that can hurt me now. It never even started and if that’s true, why do I perceive it to be real and malignant?
Anyway as you can probably guess I wasn’t really in the mood for running last night. Did 5.5km but really wanted to do more. Ended up stranded around Portimao harbour, got angry with myself and thought “fuck it” and jogged back home really slowly.