18 January 2006 - 2:36 p.m.

A waste of a life

I am not so much of a recovering hikikomori of late, as a relapsing one. Much like the self-absorbed girls with eating disorders. Perhaps the weather has contributed to it - it has been raining every day for a week now, and I have barely left the house. Watching cricket and tennis on tv, and perfecting my technique with Jeffry on Virtua Fighter 4 Evolution have occupied most of my time. It is embarrassing. I don't know why I left that job. It was never going to work out in the long term, but I wanted to convince myself that it would. I should look for some sort of work at least. Trouble is there is no financial incentive. Surely the government has worked this out - by the time you take off the 40%, add the expenses for transport etc, and of course tax, I am better off financially on Centrelink, and I have a lot more free time and a lot less stress. Although with stress, I think that comes normally for me, as I rock back and forwards all the time.

Yes, my life is definately in decline over the last few months. What brought this about? That I gave up on the interest? That I moved back in with my mum? There is probably an element of truth to both those. If my diary leaves empty spaces, it's that there was nothing to write about. What did I do on the slopes? I had a nicely organised life, if a little lonely. I really regret that I had to leave that place. But now I have no control over my world at all, and I have given up trying. This isn't just normal depression. This has started to define my life.

It's about being faithful with what you've been given, as I've been told by the one with ten talents. By that scale I have done ok, as there is not much that was expected of me.

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