Two weeks more and another year will end. I don't exactly know how to describe the year that was. Had I been happy? Well, my share of anxiety and insecurities are greater it seems. The only consolation is I survived it all.
I made no accomplishment whatsoever. It still was and is the same old me. I have been either too afraid or complacent to get out of my comfort zone. I am as always stuck on this mud that I so much hate.
On the other hand, I guess I am still one hell of a lucky son of a bitch. I am still non-reactive. I am glad that two of my friends in college are also negative. We are due to have another test by February next year. But I fucked him unsafe this morning. I know. Such stupidity.
That is exactly what is wrong with. I have no self-control at times. No discipline. This year alone I think I attempted to quit smoking three or four times. I am still the same nicotine addict that I am. The thing is, and this had been my excuse for the longest time, this is the only vice I have. This is the only way I can "bond" with my other office mates. When we go down to smoke, that is the only time we can talk some other stuff other than work. And some other stuff that is not supposed to be shared with other peeps.
I am 35 years old and I feel so old. Never felt this when I was 34. For crying out loud I will be 36 by next May of next year. This worries me a lot. And so does my big belly. The latest pair of jeans I bought is already size 36! No I am not that fat-looking. All these unwanted fats are concentrated on my midsection that I almost look like pregnant. Heck I bet if is still have long flowing locks, people will think I am with a child and that I have a womb.
So there. That basically sums up my 2015. A year that I was depressed most of the times.