I'm a procrastinator. Always have been. Deadlines usually help, but not always. That includes challenges like Blaugust. Then again sometimes life and my own mind get in the way.
I haven't had a true depressive episode in just under a year. This past weekend it came back with a vengeance. It was triggered after my girlfriend left to go back to her house in Vegas. Normally I'm hit hard whenever she leaves, but not like this. To fall back into a mode where all I felt was nothing, where I just went through the motions of the day, was terrifying. I was on the verge of panic attacks a couple times Friday and Saturday. Mustering up what little strength I could, I tried to power through. It barely worked. And it wasn't just the loneliness that caused my regression, but a general piling on of all the bullshit baggage I carry around with me in the back of my head.
My form of therapy was cleaning my room. I have a pile of shit to throw out now, and I feel like I have more to do. There's so much useless crap in my life. Need to rid myself of it. That includes all of these negative thoughts and insecurities. Maybe it's time to seek professional help—terrifying as that thought is.
So yeah, it's no real excuse, but I wanted to explain why I suck sometimes.