There are times when I look deep within myself and I ask “Why do you even care?” Tonight is one of those times. I’m depressed. This seems to be happening to me often lately. My ex used to accuse me of being bipolar, so while I was sitting here tonight feeling mopey I decided to look the condition up. Here is what WebMD had to say.

Bipolar disorder results in pathological mood swings from mania to depression, with a tendency to recur and remit spontaneously. Either the manic or the depressive episodes can predominate and produce few mood swings, or the patterns of mood swings may be cyclic. In bipolar disorder (manic), the manic phase is the current or most recent phase of the illness. The manic phase is characterized by elation, hyperactivity, over-involvement in activities, inflated self-esteem, a tendency to be easily distracted, and little need for sleep. The manic episodes may last from several days to months. In the depressive phase there is inertia, loss of self-esteem, withdrawal, sadness, and a risk of suicide. In either phase, there is frequently a dependence on alcohol or other substances of abuse. The disorder appears between the ages of 15 and 25 and affects men and women equally. The cause is unknown, but hereditary and psychological factors may play a role. The incidence is higher in relatives of people with bipolar disorders.

Sadly, I am not so sure she is wrong. I seem to have been in a high point for the last few months. Boundless energy. Undying optimism. The knowledge that everything was going well and going to continue to get better. In the last week or so I’ve watched all of that come crashing down around me. Not in any real sense, but mentally. I feel defeated. I feel hopeless. I feel like I’m wasting my time even attempting to better my life.

What’s worse is that this is all making me want to drink. Badly. I haven’t touched alcohol in almost a year, but not because of any sort of drinking problem. Because of a skin condition that I have that is irritated by alcohol. I’ve always avoided serious drinking on a regular basis, though, because my father was an alcoholic. So in times like this when I start really CRAVING a drink I get worried that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree on that one.

Christ, sometimes I feel like such a fucking mess. What’s worse is that I feel bad telling anyone about it. I feel like I am dumping my problems on them, or that I am going to be perceived as only saying something to get attention or sympathy. I should probably see a psychiatrist, but right now I really can’t afford it. I just had that confirmed today.

Oh, yeah. Another bright note to my day. I got my divorce paperwork in the mail today. There I held in my hands a stack of papers nullifying the last five years of my life. “Sign on the dotted line, son, and I’ll make all your problems go away.” I hate the fact that I’m getting divorced. I FUCKING HATE IT. No matter how many times I tell myself that the marriage was a sham. No matter how much better off I am without her. I still hate it. It wasn’t supposed to end this way.

I was a good husband. I’ll never stop believing that. I did everything I could, and for nothing. In the end, I was replaced by someone who was more exciting than me.

Well kids, I’m off to Never-Never Land to try and find my Happy Thoughts, because right now I can’t fly, and I can’t fight, and I certainly can’t crow.