(no subject)

I'm lonely. I've been depressed for a while--it may be partly due to the dreary weather we've been having--but I've been feeling like I don't have any friends, nobody to spend time with, despite evidence to the contrary. (Hell, I just came home from a movie with Jen.) Of course, when I get into this state, I tend to curl up and hide at home, which only makes matters that much worse.

I love my daughter but it's not the same spending time with her as having other adults to socialize with. And going places with her, even if there are adults there, means I don't really get to talk to them or spend time with them, just supervise her.

I really miss having someone to sleep with every night. I want to be held and caressed and cuddled. I want someone to come home to, to make a home and a life with. Someone specific, yes. I don't want to be clingy and demanding, and I feel like I'm getting that way, but I do want us to live together.

Ah hell. I just know this is only going to end up making me feel worse. I don't know how to ask for reassurances without becoming a clingy glob of self-pity. And I feel guilty for even wanting them, right now, because there really isn't anything wrong. Objectively, things are all good, we've had a lot of time together recently. I don't know why I'm depressed.

But I am trying to ask, right now, and that in itself is part of the problem, since I'm writing to my journal and not to her. Still...

Berating myself for being depressed is not likely to help matters, but I seem to be stuck in a whirlpool of it right now.

Self-medication

...of the literary sort. Cordelia's Honor, by Lois McMaster Bujold (an omnibus edition comprising Shards of Honor and Barrayar.

I love her books, I do I do.