Wasted Times

I'm angry at myself. 

Disappointed at life. 

Generally unhappy.

I made the decision that led me here, so it's my fault. I didn't foresee this situation. In hindsight, I can pinpoint moments when I could've chosen differently. 

Regret is a bitch. 

Mix in anxiety, and I can't sleep at night or do anything during the day. 

I had a steady income in a job I sometimes liked, lived in a house where I was generally not bothered, enjoyed night-outs with friends regularly. 

Now I have no job, live back in my parent's house, stay in alone every day.

Feeling disappointed gives me physical symptoms, like headaches, fatigue, insomnia, congestion, tachycardia. I'm no doctor, but I'll take a guess that this is actually depression. Fuck, again.

One thing I haven't done yet is cry, though. I wish I would. I want to party, go to clubs, forget I have plans and dreams, enjoy youth dancing and singing and drinking. It might be just right that I'm back in the town of my childhood, because I can't go out here as easily as I did in the capital. 

Lonely. My friends from high school are dispersed. My friends from uni are far away. And to top it off, I think I gave up my first chance at a romantic relationship. He is the protagonist of around seventy five percent of the intrusive thoughts when I dettach or can't sleep. But that just makes me feel stupid because I told him how I felt and he stopped showing interest. So my mind spirals with the what-ifs. 

What if I hadn't quit my job.

What if I hadn't uprooted my life.

What if I hadn't revealed my feelings to him.

Would I feel generally happy today?