So, my thumb took forever to recover, but I finally made it back to the gym. I probably could have gone back a week ago, but I've been a wreck. I gave up completely for a while, and I'm having a hell of a time getting it back together. When I relax and let myself indulge in escapism, I never want to come back to reality. I sink deeper into depression, and it becomes a vicious deadly cycle.
I look back on my life, and I haven't done anything. I've spent all day every day distracting myself from do nothing depression, and in retrospect, it's horrifying. Where did the past months go? Years.. decades.. It's like I've been in a coma. Desperately trying to keep the fire burning, so that I don't relax, give up, drown.
I am getting sick of blogging about it, though. I don't have any answers. I haven't figured anything out. I don't really have anything to say anymore.
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