I thought hard about killing myself last night. So much wasted time. So much wasted potential. And nothing to show for it but an endless bitter struggle. I'm not actually going to harm myself, and I pose no danger to myself (or others). I think the psychological term is "passively suicidal."
It's pointless to judge life in terms of accomplishments, anyway. Time pulls the rug from under the "losers" and the "winners" equally. Appreciating what you can now and pointing your nose in a better direction are the only sensible actions and the only sensible perspective on existence.
You're on a one-way ride
Down a dead-end street
You better realize
Never walk on by
{The Psychedelic Furs, "No Release"}
Personal Roundup
I drank Monday night, and then, after drinking Wednesday night, I spent the next 36 hours in bed. I called in sick, of course, and viewed it as my own private detox before recommitting to sobriety. Of course, that didn't stop me from almost drinking last night. Fortunately, I managed to resist the urge and even did a load of laundry so I had some clean underwear. Unfortunately, past victories are no indication of future success.
