My thoughts stirred me to a partial erection. But the black dog of depression wouldn’t let me enjoy a frivolous fantasy. What could he possibly see in a loser like you? Why would such a handsome, vital man want to waste his time with you? You really are living in a fantasy if you think he’d be interested in you!
I cried into my wine. I cried until my sinuses were so clogged up with snot I could hardly breathe. Other thoughts came. Why weren’t the meds working? Why was I still so upset over nothing? Why did I hate myself so much?Where had all this self-loathing and misery come from?
And then it happened.
My mind slipped further into the pit. I took another mouthful of wine and wondered if it wouldn’t be better to die. To end it all. To just fall slowly into a deep sleep and never wake up. I imagined it would be such a relief, so peaceful, so nice to drift into the blackness and never have to wake up and face the tears, the misery, and the struggle ever again.
No one would care.