It is strange, but I do not remember ever feeling this conflicted about going out and being social a year ago. I remember often times, I did not feel like being social at all - but given everything that needed to be sorted out and all the myriad problems I had encountered over the preceding months, last year I was relatively social with close friends and people that I wanted to catch up with. I even made the time to sometimes attend some larger events and meet a couple of new people, though I still gravitated towards those I did not have to explain my life to (sometimes it feels like my life is one big explanation).
Yet here I am, a year later, and I loathe being social. The tiniest thing turns my excitement about plans for a night out into just another hurdle to be gotten over and an event to be endured. Honestly, the way I am feeling right now, I would not like anything better than to just crawl into bed and hide under my duvet with some chocolates and quality movies or telly shows. It is like being pulled in a number of different directions - the path that leads to me spending yet another quiet night in and the other one that leads to a joyless night out (truly, nothing more "fun" then being the only one who is not drinking as the night progresses).
It is times like these that I wonder if I am not truly sliding into another depression; when my mood turns black with very little provocation and I start to dread the things that someone at my age and in my time of life should be relishing with joy. I wonder, I ponder.
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