Fuckit... I'm really struggling a wee bit right now.  I dunno what it is, it's just hard fuckin' going.  Feeling like you're fighting every day,  everything is a struggle.  Just to try and converse with people, act normal.  It's fuckin' exhausting.  I think part of the problem is I have *nothing* to look forward to.  Nothing to get excited about.  Me and a friend have been talking about going away for a wee bit, go to Argentina next year.  I think if I can get that booked up, then I'll have something to look forward to.  Something to focus on.  My life is just coasting along, going nowhere.  I'm slipping at work again, after a few days of wondrous coding skills I feel like I'm back to really struggling to contribute anything worthwhile.

I did play on my "illness" a wee bit yesterday, I never had an appointment with the woman, but I decided to just say I did and had an extra couple of hours in my kip.  I guess I should get *some* benefit out of being fucked up.  Right?

Ahh fuckit....what ye gonna do...

I still have that "lost", "what the fuck am I doing with my life" feeling.  I'm missing something, I have been for a fuckin' long time.  I dunno what it is.  I'm just constantly disappointed in everything.  I've felt like that forever I reckon, things are *never* as good as I think they'll be.  Even simple things... You sit in the office in a hot day, you think...I could just go a nice cold pint.  You get to the boozer, and it's *never* as good as you imagined it.  Is there something in the fact that I think that any aspect of life can be boiled down to an alcohol or Sopranos analogy?  Surely there's more to life than can be explained away by beer and Sopranos?...  Maybe there's not...  Maybe that's why I'm disappointed, because I expect to much from life.

I've been thinking about writing this for a wee while, but it does sound like I'm a proper fuckin' mentalist.  But...  I hate looking at myself in the mirror, I feel like it's a stranger.  Then I get this weird frightened panicky feeling.  Like I'm overwhelmed at being alive almost.  Not at being alive maybe, but at life.  At how people can be alive.  I become so aware of "living" and it frightens me.  I dunno... it does sound like I'm a fuckin' loonball.  So if anyone is reading this and feels or has felt the same.  Then some reassurance that I'm "ok" would be great.  Sometimes I lie in my bed and it's like I get a jolt, like all of a sudden "I'm back in the room" and here and alive and how can it possibly be and how can my family be my family and is this real and what the fuck is going on in my head?!!?  I've often thought that maybe I'm in a coma, like that cunt from that show where he's back in the 60's.  Maybe I'm lying in a hospital bed somewhere and my life really isn't so fucked up.  Maybe I got hit by a truck and i've been in coma for a wee while, but it feels like 4 fuckin years.  Maybe...

Maybe I'm just a fuckin nutcase.

Maybe I'm just going to continue to coast forever.  Fuck that.