I have started wondering if I will ever really be happy again.
I mean..I know I’ll be OK. But happy? I can honestly say at this moment, I do not know. It’s been a rough year. And it’s only mid-way.
I have never, ever felt this way in my life. It’s weird.
In 2022, I lost my best friend. I’ve had close friends lie to me. Give me shit about about a stupid fn politically motivated vax. Forget me. Not even bother to text fn Happy Birthday.
I send texts, I send cards. I ask if you are OK. I won’t ever push to talk but try to make sure you know I am always there if needed. I’ll change my schedule, or routine, or whatever so we can hang out. Or I can be there.
What do I get? Pfft.
So..why should I care? Why should I put any effort into anything other than just being top-level, socially acceptably friendly and nothing more? Cause no upsets but not really care either. Or…just say F it and scorched earth on anyone who gives me shit. That’s definitely another route. My brain says yes to that. But the other side of my brain says just calm down and ignore everyone.
I am sure I will get another buddy at some point, who will help bring me out of the current funk. But any amount of happiness or joy brought about by that should be reserved for that buddy only.
I’ve tried being a good human. And I will continue to try on the top level of picking up litter, and dog poop. And holding doors open. And smiling. And checking Nextdoor for lost dogs. And donating money to help buddies. But I’m kind of tired of accepting the petty foibles of others to have them be shitty to me in return.
Just tired.
