I'm thankful that I'm around to be capable of being thankful (or not). That seems to really be about it:
-I have a job that I am growing more and more to loathe with each passing day. Basically, I've got the task, first and foremost, of telling other people no, all day. About all the creativity that this job allows me is the occasional moment of glib snarkiness.
-I am an introvert who never has time to himself. I last had a 10 hour period pass where I didn't have to deal with anyone else in, oh, September. This has at this point gotten to where I cannot even keep my brain focused on one task- or examine one thought closely.
-I am in bad health. My teeth are all fucked up, my left knee is all fucked up. Last year, I dropped dead from a congenital heart defect. That's apparently repaired- and as a result, I've gained almost 70 pounds in a year's span. Now granted, I DESPERATELY NEEDED at least 40 of that, what the complaint is is that the additional weight has shifted my center of balance hugely, done away with me having a wardrobe that fits -- and while I know I'm not actually overweight, I look at my body now and I FEEL like I must be huge, since I'm used to being built like a skeleton.
-I seldom get a good night's sleep. I am told to take one of my medicines at night, and when I do so, it wakes me up at 3-4 AM, for a good hour at minimum. I haven't gotten more than 7 hours of sleep in 3 months, and I haven't gotten it more than 5 times since last December. I have discussed this with my doctor. My doctor advises taking more aspirin with it. Thanks, asshole.
-I never remember my dreams anymore. I used to- but since The Incident, I simply don't, anymore. I have little flashes of recollection.
-On a related note, my memory has gone straight to hell in a handbasket. I try to pretend that it's almost as good as it used to be but it just plain isn't. About the only thing I've ever felt solid about having going for me was a near-eidetic memory. Now, I just don't have the ability to remember things I've read verbatim, months later: chripes, I'm lucky if I remember them /hours/ later. This is, point blank, terrifying to me.
-I am not happy. I cannot seem to get back into the stride of 'real life' again after last year's little mess. I just feel removed. I feel lonely. I feel isolated. I am scared to death that I'll pick my nose and that'll make me keel over on the spot. I just look at all this and part of me wants to just throw in the towel and go to the locker room.
NO, this is NOT a suicide note. I have UTTERLY no intention of shuffling off this mortal coil. Stop worrying, I'm not going to be that stupid. I can understand that at present I am depressed, depression passes, and it'd be stupid to take a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Suicide isn't an option here, in my mind. I'm saying 'I'm not sure how the hell I should cope here', rather than 'I cannot and will not try'.
At any rate. While I'm unhappy, I am honestly thankful that I am able to be unhappy as opposed to being, well, decaying mulch.
That's something, right?