Drunken ramblings

I suppose for authenticity I should have kept the typos in the title. But I'm not quite that drunk. I'm drunk enough for fluidity of talking/typing, drunk enough not to care what shit spills out and drunk enough not to care if the punctuation and grammar is a bit off. Drunk enough not to care if it doesn't quite say what I mean. Not so drunk I don't realise that my thoughts are largely futile and alcohol-induced (and the depression, that always plays a big role).

Good evening (Bender's Game is awesome btw) finished with me rambling self-pityingly about my unemployability, while good friends of course tried their best to reassure me. I know what they say is at least partly true, and that they don't mean to belittle my difficulties. I still feel maybe they don't quite grasp how hard I find some things, but at the same time I accept my own view of my abilities is marred by the depression and general negativity that has haunted me all my life. Pessimistic bastard that I am. ("marred me all my life" - how fucking melodramatic. Ah well, I'm pissed. I talk in clichés at the best of times.) And I am willing to take it on trust that things will work out in the end. It's the only way I can approach life, to be honest, even though it goes against my better, cynical, nature.

Depression's a bitch. It makes you see only the bad, remember only the failures and predict only worse things in times to come. Even being aware of this filter isn't enough to disregard it entirely, especially with such long-running problems as mine - you know from past experiences that you've failed to do things, ergo you cannot do them. But as anyone with a smattering of economical awareness will know, past performance may not be indicative of future results. So there is hope. However slim. But there is hope. And even acknowledging that means I'm not as ill as I have been, and thus things have improved.

I guess this is an apology of sorts, for ending things on such a downer, as well as a demonstration (as much to myself as anything) that I can actually write, possibly even coherently, if only I stop the internal censor from getting in the way and trying to make things perfect. Now if only I could find a way to shut that censor up without having to drink two large glasses of wine first....