Understimulation

Despite nothing particularly outside the mundane really happening, I have had a really weird week. To keep this brief (or at least within my word limit), my head’s messed up again. But at least I know why.

There is one aspect of my personality that I appear to share with Sherlock Holmes, and that’s a tendency to feel understimulated. He injected cocaine for the affliction, I just spiral into self-destructive thoughts. Hello, depression! Will I never be free of you? Given that I am (for the first time in years) master of my own destiny, I shouldn’t be understimulated at all. I can stimulate myself all I want! (And I can do that all I want, too…) But I think my laid-back attitude to the world means I have a tendency to kick back until I have a pressing deadline. The fact that I got a job this week should kick me into something resembling structure again, hopefully.

In the meantime, though, this week has been full of despairing thoughts as I start once again questioning myself and what I want out of life. I’m doing the course I want to do, Harlequin’s Kiss is slowly taking off (so my musical career is gaining legs), and I have a decent enough part-time job to keep me in food and beer. Yet I still feel like something’s missing. That something seems to be companionship. It’s an old chestnut, but ultimately I seem to be lonely. It doesn’t help that my social life has been badly eroded over the last few years. Having had some periods of unemployment in that time and a serious financial millstone round my neck for a year, I’ve not been able to get out and meet people like I used to. Instead, my social life has revolved round the Tabletop Gaming Society at the University of Birmingham. As a non-student member, I’ve mostly been out of the loop as work has prevented me from making it to four out of five meetings each week, so I don’t have the same connection to the current crop of students as I used to have to previous generations. And my old uni mates are slowly dwindling away as they move town or find other things to do.

So I feel disconnected. Plus, I’m single at an age where the vast majority of eligible ladies are in serious relationships, many even sporting rings to that effect. I could prey on second year undergrads who’ve just split up with their sixth-form boyfriends, but I could find myself feeling a bit of a cradle-snatcher.

The other aspect of all this, of course, is the possibility that it’s all in my own head. I’ve always assumed that finding a special someone who actually liked me back would mean my mind would have to find something more constructive to do, but now I wonder if it will just find something else to be obsessively dissatisfied about…

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~ by Scary Rob on 8 November, 2010.

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