#documenting life : feeling… i dont know what

iam feeling a little out of sorts. clinically, iam not depressed so someone aware, educated in psychology and in the medical-allied field, i dont want to throw the term around. but iam not okay too. (it has taken me 5 distinct tries to get this all out) i have so much to be grateful for in life and i dont just mean the basics of food, clothing and shelter. i love my life, my job, feeding streeties on the way to work. i love my movies, my food, my coffee. i order food, skincare and organisers off amazon galore. i have several sets of friends that i catch up with occasionally. there hasnt been a major shift in my life recently – i lived with my partner for years before legalising it so nothing new there.

I lost my doggo a year ago. his cancer was getting out of hand and the vet told us the humane thing to do was let him go. he braved through 2 surgeries and months of bandages for unhealing wounds because i was selfish and dint want to let him go. he licked a mango ice cream clean moments before he did go. lived life king size, that boy. I dint cry a single tear that day. not when in the ambulance to blue cross. not when we cremated him. not when we spread his ashes into the waters at the beach. not a single tears for months.
even now, iam not sad. iam just more guilty. of not spending enough time with him. of not being sure if I did the right thing by him. the what ifs that plague me most waking moments. that’s a good chunk of why my brain isn’t braining. but it’s not just that. I can’t seem to find the drive. work is beyond stagnant. I feel stuck. nothing excites me because work is a carousel. it seems to be the same thing over and over again off late, except for clients finding newer ways to annoy you.

i wake up in the morning and desperately want to brew myself a cup of coffee, but iam stuck because my brew space isn’t what it used to be and that irks me. a very first world problem. (note : by the third draft, iam getting better at the coffee space)

I live a life of dreams, yes; but my dreams they are not. none of my dreams, even the simplest ones seem to be panning out and the only thing I can think of is that I sacrificed my time with my zeem for this life that iam living out. so i brew that cup of coffee – make it rapid PO instead of a Hoffman because i run of patience, cook, deck up, get to work, plog through with the bare minimum, eat, lose self in a book, cook, eat, doomscroll until the brain stops processing. and then reset to the top of the spiral. lather rinse repeat.

should I blame karma? the planets moving around that shouldn’t for scientific reasons be concerned with a person on their neighbour? should I blame myself? should I even blame?

this may or may not be transient. things will change as is the nature of things. how, is an entirely different dimension. but just putting this out there. for strangers on the internet. for me to read in the future. life sucks, even when it doesn’t. it’s not about looking at the glass half empty but when it scientifically is half empty, it is what it is.
it’s okay to feel not-okay. even if i live a life of dreams, my dreams they are not. c’est la fucking vie