On Depression and Depressants
Alcohol is a depressant, so they say. I suppose it is on a chemical level, and no doubt continual intake of the stuff can lead to alcoholism, which would be quite depressing.
However, I find that other factors in life to have far more of a depressant-like effect. Since the release of OmniGraffle 4 I find myself suffering from a form of post-partum depression, coupled with a number of things all happening around the same time that simply haven't turned out the way I'd prefer and I find myself in a definite funk.
The only constant, which I try and find solace in, is my drinking. Truly it's more of a social endeavor, as when one has a neighborhood bar to go to and knows everyone there and it's been well over a decade since this little dance has begun, it's less the activity performed as those you perform it with.
But even then, repetition turns it into more like watching the same episode of a television show over and over again, and it feels as if I need a change of pace to snap myself out of said funk.
But I won't.
Here I sit, before the start of my three-day-long set of nightly excursions into irresponsible pseudo-bachelorhood, and ponder my reasons for continual routine, well aware that it's not doing me so well. Don't get me wrong, I know exactly the reasons I do these things, and it has zero to do with chemical dependancy -- Although since moving I cannot smoke in my apartment, so I tend to spend as much time in places where I can when I can.
(as an aside, if they pass that idiotic smoking ban on Tuesday, I shall simply explode)
However, I find that other factors in life to have far more of a depressant-like effect. Since the release of OmniGraffle 4 I find myself suffering from a form of post-partum depression, coupled with a number of things all happening around the same time that simply haven't turned out the way I'd prefer and I find myself in a definite funk.
The only constant, which I try and find solace in, is my drinking. Truly it's more of a social endeavor, as when one has a neighborhood bar to go to and knows everyone there and it's been well over a decade since this little dance has begun, it's less the activity performed as those you perform it with.
But even then, repetition turns it into more like watching the same episode of a television show over and over again, and it feels as if I need a change of pace to snap myself out of said funk.
But I won't.
Here I sit, before the start of my three-day-long set of nightly excursions into irresponsible pseudo-bachelorhood, and ponder my reasons for continual routine, well aware that it's not doing me so well. Don't get me wrong, I know exactly the reasons I do these things, and it has zero to do with chemical dependancy -- Although since moving I cannot smoke in my apartment, so I tend to spend as much time in places where I can when I can.
(as an aside, if they pass that idiotic smoking ban on Tuesday, I shall simply explode)
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