I'm simply not in a space where I can share the hopefulness and enthusiasm for the new year which I've seen posted so many places on MS. A part of me feels badly for being the party pooper. But that's exactly where I am. Nor can I share any sense of accomplishment except that I survived another year. For me, it's felt like treading water, often just keeping my head above water when another wave washes over. To carry the metaphor, I can't even see a shoreline. It feels as if 2014 will be more of the same and I'm damn tired. Just need to vent...again.

For perspective, my bestie reminded me again last weekend (from his own experience) that the bp meds may have that effect. And I'm maintaining something like 110/70. But, if I can't pay the medical bills, can't find let alone afford a competent T, struggle to find work, don't want to be around people who are only a reminder to me of my own shortcomings, then what's the point of putting effort into prolonging the agony? (e.g., why put myself through the struggle - damn, another one? - of quitting smoking if it's to prolong a life that's already pretty pointless anyway?). I wish sometimes I could drown it in booze, drugs, sex or food. Hell, I don't even have THAT ability.

Whatever so-called progress may have been made since joining MS, all I see is that it's brought up more problems and more crap about which I don't need/want the reminders.

Put another way, my life is just about surviving. Again, as my bestie pointed out, he's noticed there's no longer any joy in my life. And he's right. And I don't care. I don't miss it because I now feel it was a façade anyway.

The feeling is strange for me. I've given up being clever, making jokes, etc. Either people don't get it or they take it as an indication I'm a people-pleasing sucker. Ditching the "personality" works. I don't try to be "nice". otoh, rather than being stuck in bed as I'd usually expect with depression, things get done around the house as if on automatic. I don't think about 'em, I just do 'em.

I don't feel as if I've ever in my history been able to truly break free of the damage of – get this – 40-50 years ago. And I've worked on it for decades. These people – abusive parents and the perp – fucked me up for life. What happened to the teenager who was fascinated with photography, architecture, aviation, television production and the like? I've tried to reconnect and failed completely. And I'm now too damn old to do anything meaningful about it. The feeling is totally gone.

Some people overcome that. I'm not one of those people. Try as I may, I just haven't been able to do it...and now I'm too damn tired to fight it. I feel as if my lifetime is winding down and I've accomplished little, having not even mastered the basics.