“i guess i just bought into the idea that i don't deserve happiness. I've hurt so many people by being too close with them and then fucking it up in the heat of a moment. and then they leave me feeling lonelier than before. its not that bad though. at least, i don't think it is. eventually, you get used to the loneliness that wraps you up like a cocoon. you become comfortable in it. not that it makes it hurt any less, but it becomes your default state. you want to break out of it, but its a bad habit that clings to you like cellophane. you can try to get to know more people, try to make friends, try to form emotional connections, but its an uphill battle, because you're not USED to it. you're used to being alone, consumed by your thoughts. you're used to sitting in bed all day, fighting off demons with books or youtube videos or games or netflix.” he looks up at me and forces a smile. “and since you studied psychology, you know that the brain always falls back into old habits. old habits die hard. old habits are easy, familiar. its like one of those wooden souvenir statuettes you bought 10 years ago that calms you down when you have it, that you can feel in your hand and know every scratch, know it's shape and contour perfectly, and feel reassured of how familiar it feels.”
“surely you realise that—”
“of course i do.” his eyes, brimming with sadness, black yolk running, stared back into mine. “i know I'm fetishising my sadness. i know what that entails. its a vicious cycle, a trap that i can't crawl out of.” he slowly takes out the ring he had on his middle finger. it was a beautiful ring, gold with a diamond embedded in its middle. he played with it in his hands, refusing to make eye contact.
“its easier to stay sad. its easier to not do anything to change it, because changing it takes effort, and there isn't even a guarantee that you'd emerge from it better and happier than before.”
another one of these cases. i wondered if there was a pattern here that made so many people fall into the same despairing situation, and that made me sad.
“so doc,” he smiled, “am i depressed, or just a lazy sack of shit?”