There's A Fine Line Between Living A Life and Feeling Alive

I'm beginning to suspect that I've become accustomed or complacent to the fact that things continually fail to work out in my favor. My friend Lauren once stated that I was one of the most hopeful people she ever met...and I don't know if that's necessarily true anymore.

I refuse to announce something as cliche as "I've lost all hope" or something equally melodramatic, but rather, I feel like I'm getting more and more numb to things that do or don't happen. Something goes bad and I just sigh and think "Oh well," and just daze off.

This is not necessarily a new occurrence in my head, but it's certainly something that grew. Initially, I thought I was simply dealing with the shit going on around me when, in actuality, the opposite was occurring. I'm not dealing with anything. I'm just simply not acknowledging the existence of anything outside my daily grind, and then slowly reflecting on things while sitting in the dark and listening to music before I got to sleep.

It's been over half a year since I've cried at all. Even a little. I've tried to even make myself because I feel like I'd might feel a little better. And there are times when I've felt my eyes begin to water, then I take a deep breath and it's as if my brain completely switches gears and the feeling disappears without a trace. I don't think this particularly healthy. More like building a dam which is doomed to eventually break and overflow. Won't that be fun.

I just feel like I can't win. Like no matter what I do...I'm defeated. Whether it be shit with one of my four jobs, the void that is my romantic life, or dealing with things relating to my friends and/or family. Sometimes I feel if one of those things would be a bit more positive or show some promise, my outlook would possibly change. And I think this desire to see that change takes over when the possibility presents itself, especially when dealing with things of the romantic nature (or possibility), which makes everything so much worse when it inevitably blows up in my face.

Perhaps I just refuse to flat out admit that I'm unhappy...but I don't think so. More than anything, I believe it's frustration with nothing working out and my inability to understand why things constantly fail to go in my favor.

God I can't stand it when I whine pathetically, but I do it so well I suppose.