Like an attack this melancholy comes from time to time. I don't know at what intervals, but it slowly covers my sky with clouds. It begins with an unrest in the heart, with a premonition of anxiety, probably with my dreams at night. People, houses, colors, sounds that otherwise please me become dubious and seem false. Music gives me a headache. Talking with people is torture and immediately leads to me making a scene. Anger, suffering, and complaints are directed at everything, at people, at the universe. But they have no effect on things and are deflected from everything, back to myself.
The changes I make in my life often happen when I have a degree of certainty. However, the pain of my past failures often fuel my indecisiveness. This inability to predict the future is why I find myself stuck and unable to move forward. It's not like I want to feel the emotions of failure. I just prefer to talk myself into settling for an "okay" life, rather than the life I really want. However, as I found, failure is a matter of perspective. Is it not failure when I don't take a chance on the one thing I want most? Am I not a total disappointment to Her if I don't even try.
