The business of misery

Sometimes you can be consumed by your own grief, your own sadness, your own woes. You don't notice life that is going on right in front of your face. You don't see the opportunities pass you by. 

It's like; nothing is more important than your own misery. 

For the past 2 weeks I've been this person. Wallowing in a low that I should have known I was letting myself in for. 

They say it comes in threes. I don't really believe that. It's just all merely coincidental. I think I can count at least five things that have been sent to try me. It's been a shit fortnight. 

Yesterday I took the puppies and we went out to get lost in the woods and the fields. It's so quiet out there. Away from the noise of traffic and TVs. Away from Facebook and 4g. Just me strolling along and the pups running around so much that they probably cover six times the distance I do. 

Whilst out there I did a bit of reading of the stuff I written before. One thing stuck out "I'm the happiest depressed person you could ever meet". So I listed my problems. 

Don't worry I won't bore you with them all.

I didn't get solutions per se. But I did face the facts:

I've always been skint, I'll always be skint no point in worrying about that.

My car always breaks down. Regardless of whether it was tampered with or not, it was due another couple of hundred quid shamelessly thrown at it. 

I was a prick when I was a teenager, it's only fair that the kid acts the same sometimes.

I shouldn't be sad that I'm not enough for him. I should be grateful for the happiness I had, however shortlived.

I think the thing that finally kicked me out of this funk was the hope, in some little way, I inspired someone to do something fucking awesome this week. 

#cravatcrew #humansforever

So no more misery. No more sad. The happiest depressed person you could meet. After all, I am the funny one. What would you all do without me...