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Made an appointment with my insurance's mental health care provider.
I don't even get to play therapist roulette now, I just go to this clinic. At least the first few visits are free.
I'm soooo not looking forward to this. But it's bad right now. It's bad to the point where being drunk doesn't even sound inviting, and that's a first. I've gotten depressed past my usual 'maybe a drink would make me feel better' stage. I tried tequila the other night & couldn't get a buzz, let alone drunk.
Part of it is age. I know, I lived in California & here in Vegas, but I never though the ageism would rub off on me. Of course, I also never thought I'd get old. I always thought I'd die way before now. So it's like, fuck me, I'm almost 40. Still doing nothing with my life, still slouching my way through a dead-end job, in a blasé marriage, playing video games in my spare time. Just getting older by the minute. Already old. The more I think about it, the older I get, too. It never stops. I'll likely never be able to leave the hotel either, because I'm already unmarketably old in a bad employment-availability span. There is no career field where age is a benefit, not any more.
I thought about looking for a younger man to have an affair with, but I honestly don't have the time for that kind of shenanigans. Not driving and not having spare cash for hotel rooms (and insect repellents for the subsequent bedbug infestations) kind of puts a damper on an affair anyway. That and I've had to deal w/college boys for the past month at work, and I don't want to be around any of them long enough to work out some kind of sexual exchange. I walked past this hipster kid last night, analyzing a glass of well vodka like it was some indie film & wanted to gag.
The house is a mess, I'm a mess. Taking a shower every day is a major challenge and I feel exhausted afterwards. Washing dishes, mopping the floor, cooking, eating, doing laundry - it could all just pile up around me and I wouldn't care. I don't care, but it's gotta be done. So I drag myself into and through the million tedious chores each day. I try to be 'present' and 'in the moment', and that's not the problem - if anything, I am firmly enmeshed in the present moment, and there's no fucking escape. I can't even hate my life because I don't care enough to hate.
I don't even get to play therapist roulette now, I just go to this clinic. At least the first few visits are free.
I'm soooo not looking forward to this. But it's bad right now. It's bad to the point where being drunk doesn't even sound inviting, and that's a first. I've gotten depressed past my usual 'maybe a drink would make me feel better' stage. I tried tequila the other night & couldn't get a buzz, let alone drunk.
Part of it is age. I know, I lived in California & here in Vegas, but I never though the ageism would rub off on me. Of course, I also never thought I'd get old. I always thought I'd die way before now. So it's like, fuck me, I'm almost 40. Still doing nothing with my life, still slouching my way through a dead-end job, in a blasé marriage, playing video games in my spare time. Just getting older by the minute. Already old. The more I think about it, the older I get, too. It never stops. I'll likely never be able to leave the hotel either, because I'm already unmarketably old in a bad employment-availability span. There is no career field where age is a benefit, not any more.
I thought about looking for a younger man to have an affair with, but I honestly don't have the time for that kind of shenanigans. Not driving and not having spare cash for hotel rooms (and insect repellents for the subsequent bedbug infestations) kind of puts a damper on an affair anyway. That and I've had to deal w/college boys for the past month at work, and I don't want to be around any of them long enough to work out some kind of sexual exchange. I walked past this hipster kid last night, analyzing a glass of well vodka like it was some indie film & wanted to gag.
The house is a mess, I'm a mess. Taking a shower every day is a major challenge and I feel exhausted afterwards. Washing dishes, mopping the floor, cooking, eating, doing laundry - it could all just pile up around me and I wouldn't care. I don't care, but it's gotta be done. So I drag myself into and through the million tedious chores each day. I try to be 'present' and 'in the moment', and that's not the problem - if anything, I am firmly enmeshed in the present moment, and there's no fucking escape. I can't even hate my life because I don't care enough to hate.
