I'm having another bad day today. I'm glad I've educated myself about the biochemistry of alcohol abuse and recovery because it gives me some perspective to ride out my moods. Otherwise, I worry about getting to the point of screaming out, "Fuck you! I'm going on disability!" to everyone/no one in particular.
I'm so depressed at how fat I am. I so wanted to be in shape for a family vacation coming up in August. Now the best I can hope for is being slightly less obese. I worry that my skin of my stomach will droop like a deflated balloon if I ever manage to shed the weight, making me just as unattractive and unappealing as I am now. I hate the entire course my life has taken: failure, missed opportunities and wasted potential. I've never been able to attract a mate or even date anyone long-term in the past twenty years. The only thing I've ever found meaningful is writing, but I've never had the energy to devote to it after the tedium of daily life leaves me at less than zero. I can barely hold down a job and live independently. Forget about any measure of success in any aspect of my life.
< /whining >
