It’s Monday, and I think it’s Groundhog* Day in the US, but I may be misremembering that. It’s never been a holiday to which I’ve paid much attention. The notion of the groundhog seeing its shadow and that leading to six more weeks of winter is one of those rare superstitions that I don’t think anyone I’ve met actually takes seriously.
I was awake almost the entire night last night. It’s very frustrating. On Friday nights (when I don’t work on Saturday) I tend to sedate myself rather thoroughly, though I use only legal, OTC methods. To a slightly lesser degree, I also do so on Saturday nights, though I have to make sure I get up to do my laundry on Sunday morning.
But then, on Sunday nights‒and to some degree every other weeknight‒I have a terrible time getting to sleep and then staying asleep. And then my brain becomes ever more frazzled and worn down, even after a relatively restful weekend, at the very beginning of the week, and it rarely improves as the days pass through the weeks.
Of course, my rest isn’t helped by the fact that I’m continuing through a flare-up of my chronic pain. That’s probably not helped by the unusually cold weather in south Florida; it went down to 33 degrees Fahrenheit on Saturday night and about 35 last night. That’s as chilly as it’s been since I’ve lived down here. I know, though, that cold weather is not the main culprit behind my pain flare-ups, because they happen at least as often during the middle of the summer, when it is neither cold nor dry.
Also, my chronic pain problem only began after I was living in Florida. Before coming here, New York City was the warmest place I had lived, but I never developed any chronic pain problems up there. Of course, I’m older than I used to be, which is what happens when you haven’t died yet. But that didn’t happen all at once, whereas my chronic pain sort of did‒and not terribly long after I had moved to Florida. So, the problem is basically internal, a neuromusculoskeletal kind of thingy. I suppose perhaps changes of pressure might affect it, but temperature doesn’t seem to be a significant factor.
Anyway, sorry, I know that must be tremendously boring. Believe me, I get quite bored of being in pain, which has been ongoing for more than twenty years, with no days off, not even major holidays. It gets very, very old. It certainly contributed to the downfall of the life I had tried to build and to the wreckage in which I now live. And it’s damnably hard to build anything back up, literally or figuratively, when one is in pain.
So, yeah, a lot of things that stir my ambition‒and ambition has always been a noteworthy part of my character‒get left behind at least partly because I just can’t keep doing things when I’m in pain. I don’t know if that’s because biology has programmed us not to want to do things that are associated with pain (and most everything in my life is so associated now) or just because dealing with the pain wears out one’s willpower, in a sort of “learned helplessness” situation. Probably, both aspects are involved, and there are likely to be others as well.
Okay, I know, this is still boring, isn’t it? Sorry. I would love to say insightful things or pose interesting questions or make serious comments about various things happening in the world. But, alas, I am rather overdone. The more I try to explore what’s happening in my life and mind, the more I have trouble finding much that’s positive.
I am surely an emotional drain on those near me; at the very least, I know that I am unpleasant to be around. At least I’m not so unkind as to be willing to continue to inflict myself upon others when I know that I am almost always a net negative.
I’m really very worn out, in more than one sense. And I don’t see much to which to look forward in the world. Humanity in general is becoming even more disappointing than I expected it to be, which is saying something. That’s not to say they don’t have their good aspects and individuals, just as I think most of the rest of the “natural world” is no more beautiful or inspiring or beneficent than humans are.
I’m very discouraged. I suppose the only good thing about my chronic depression is that it would probably need to improve (perhaps due to antidepressants) for me to be able to find the energy to kill myself. This may seem ironic, even contradictory, but it is a recognized phenomenon.
All right, that’s enough. It’s time I stopped inflicting myself on all of you, at least for the today. I hope you all have good days (or a good day overall). You’ve earned it by reading through my dreck.
*I always thought of it as “Groundhog‘s Day”, but apparently it is not a possessive.








