killing me

i retired from nightlife because it was killing me. my value system was making me less happy every day, as if my depression needed any help. i pursued the priorities of that lifestyle relentlessly, and i hated myself for it. I didnt know what was driving me to push dirty hypodermics into my arm - i didnt know how i felt about anything. i'm not implying this will happen to anyone else in nightlife; plenty of people are strong enough, secure enough in their identities to survive.

But it literally killed me. i've been declared dead by EMTs twice, and three or four other times by people near me (who helpfully and reliably dropped me in the nearest bathtub and hoped for the best).

I believe that a major lifestyle shift toward stability will bring a congruent shift in my self-worth. eventually. i fought my ass off for a YEAR to get back into school, i swore off going out, and i set up a routine of studying, sleeping, writing, reading, and going to class. that routine has been my entire life this semester, but my grades are hardly better than they were when i stayed out til dawn every night of the week. I'm hitting my head against the same brick wall with the same lack of result, so now it seems that college is killing me too.

i don't know what i want. maybe that's what's really killing me.