Obligatory Sad Sack Post

Where can't you blog? Seriously? I like italics.

I haven't made a sad sack-ish post here yet, and it's something of a tradition. You wouldn't know that. Or wouldn't have; prior to my having said it only a couple of sentences ago.

When you try your best and things don't work out, that's disappointing. When you don't (italics) try your best and things, unsurprisingly, don't work out, that's a whole level above disappointing. Or below. Beyond?

Beyond; the operable term.

And when you exacerbate things by giving in to old (demons is such an "edgy," oh, look how edgy I am kind of word) demons (used it anyway), you embrace the things as long as possible because they're inevitably going to lead to self-punishment.

"I should be past this now," you might say. Probably not out loud. "Things are better; I'm better." And you're probably not-saying these things while staring a couple of regrets right in the face. (I would like to portray "regrets" as having faces for the duration of this paragraph. This is also, I admit, an excuse to use parentheses.)

"Yeah, I'm not perfect," but that's a tired excuse. That excuse has routinely been shaken awake and kicked out of bed, and it just doesn't have the impact it maybe used to.

"Am I a bad person?" That's a fun one. It's rather subjective, though; considering that you're asking, well, yourself.

"Did I leave the oven on?" That one's unrelated; though not insignificant.

Something and someone wonderful comes into your life, and you still fall back on old habits. It forces you to admit that your problems didn't magically vanish. To admit that those problems are still a part of who you are; even though you no longer have to face them alone.

Sad sack post COMPLETE. Could have been more sad; I don't know about more sack. The very thought perplexes me.