Rant

I'm so fucking lonely right now...I am willing to admit that, but I don't like that I am admitting that. I mean, I shouldn't be lonely, I should be fine. I have a safe home, a restful peaceful life, plenty of free time, enough resources to move forward in life...But I am miserable, nonetheless.
No, its not always, every day misery. Its the 'wake up call' variety. Home hum, I go through my day, believing any number of self-help affirmations about the power of focus, about having a clear vision of what one wants, etc etc. I practice gratitude daily, reminding myself to recall that I invited what is in my life, into my life from previous day dreams about life. For instance, I wondered, for years, about what being single would feel like, what living on my own, would be like. Well, here I am. Is it any wonder, then that I'm in this position. Is the basic level of satisfaction in life increased or is it about the same?
All I know is, I find it increasingly more difficult to buy into my bullshit. I find it far easier to rest in the 'pessimistic' view. The 'realist' view. Anyway, it comes on like a freight train, it hits hard, and my mind churns out reason after reason for why this is like this, why that is that, and how it will always be and will never change, no matter what I think, focus on, lose or achieve.
I gnash about, forcing myself to cry, to 'grieve' over the tremendous loss I've experienced in the last couple years, and then I realize, I'm just indulging it, or at least that's the judgement...I am lost. I just cannot seem to shake the grief. I don't know what is going on inside me anymore, but I am exhausted, and desire to feel at ease with what is, what has been, and what can be. I want to feel bliss in the anticipation of life, to feel surprised by myself. Problem is, I cannot seem to pull my head out of my ass long enough to do anything of any value. I have no faith in my natural abilities. I over-analyze and over-think every.little.fucking.thing...I can barely leave the house without a peptalk, without propping myself with empowering thoughts...
I have no idea what I am doing in life. I have no motivation. I have no energy. My body hurts. I do not trust my mind to think thoughts that help me, I trust it to churn out fantasies, and miseries, and distortions and nonsense.
And socially, I feel like a leper. I hate everyone. I hate that I am not more popular. Then I remind myself, "you get what you put out," and have to accept that I am not a very good friend to anyone. I am cold, detached, selfish and distant. I seek out others only for my own benefit. I do not trust in people, I do not really care about anyone else very much. I love people, as an idea, but when it comes to actually being in their lives, I am unreliable, moody, and make people uncomfortable. Wierd. I think that's the right word.
I want to belong to something again. I miss the feeling of belonging that I perceive I once had. When we lived in San Diego? When we lived in Santa Barbara before we moved to San Francisco? Before it all fell apart...?
I can't bear not knowing, not being in control. And I have this on-going dialogue in my head with an antogonistic voice that constantly watches over my other thoughts, checks them for accuracy, watches what I say, how I express myself and is constantly picking me apart, picking apart the validity of what I am feeling, pointing out the flaws in optimism, seizing at the opportunity to take over when I give up and don't know what to do or say or how to act or what I want.
Anyway, this is just a means to an end. Writing this out. I wonder, however, if anyone sees this, and wonders, because they feel similar if they're depressed, I'd advise seeing a therapist. I saw one for 7 years, and I would love to continue to see one, but I am 400 miles away from my therapist and owe him $400.00. Which reminds me, I have a constant, nagging stress over how little I can manifest materially, and how much I consume. I owe, conservatively, $140,000.00. I have no job. I have very little to show for my life, thing-wise. I took solace in my relationship, as though it was something I could be proud of, but that's now becoming a stale memory, as well, and is no help anymore.
And I get older. And feel more fragile, less certain, less capable. More beaten down. More accepting of being beaten down. Tired. Hurt and incapable of healing from it entirely.
I want to be happy. I want to feel connected to my life. I want to be in love: with life, with a woman, with my calling. I want to grow and learn and smile. However, right now I feel like smashing my head through the windshield of a car that has just collided with a pilon below an underpass that I swerved to hit to see if not wearing my seatbelt really is fatal.