Down in the Dumps

I've stopped updating this post since 2011, but even that is overstating. I probably stopped earlier than this.

I'm writing again after so long because I hope that by expressing myself with my written musings, this may, in whatever small way, be therapeutic for me in these trying times. It's helpful to know also that no one will be reading this post or this blog. No one has been doing so for years I believe. Time to clear off some cobwebs.

I'm clinically depressed. A wreck. A mess. It's only been about 2 weeks but I feel like exploding. It's not going right at all. It's like you want to cry, but Generic Male Standards of Behavior dictates otherwise. So instead of bawling like a sissy boy, I instead look out to immerse myself in emotional circumstances, such as, sad movies, getting angry at random things and heartwarming short videos on YouTube. Today, I was a Nando's, Paradigm Mall, with a couple of friends. We ordered, the drinks came soon enough. We waited for the food. Didn't come. I was calm. Eventually we shook the awkwardness of asking the pretty waitress with strange ear-piercings about our dinner, and another waiter, what appears to be a Hobbit of some sort, responded by giving us the wrong order. I questioned Frodo about the order and he immediately checked the order in some computer terminal just next to our table. Frodo then confirmed our order, which was apparently wrong from the beginning.

That's when I flipped.

I repeated my order firmly once, and then twice. He seemed more confused than trying to calm down an irate customer. I stormed out of there, refusing to pay for anything. On a separate note, Pasta Zanmai in Paradigm has excellent service.

The evening didn't end all that badly. However, this emotional outburst is merely the tip of a terrible iceberg. I've been cooping up this feeling of inadequacy for a while now. My morale is at an all time low. I know some people around me are trying the bestest to cheer me up. It's not working, through no fault of theirs.

To make matters worse, I am ashamed of expressing my true feelings in all this. I'm ashamed that my friends and close loved ones may think any less of me. Objectively I know they probably won't think so, but you try telling THAT to my sub-conscious self.

I may not kill myself as that would be over-dramatizing what some people may call a trivial situation. But I also can't speak to my closest friends as, I am, as mentioned above, ashamed. I feel trapped. Unlike Admiral Akbar, I did not see this coming. I'm not sure how I'm getting out of this one.