consumed

i am still sad.
i feel so alone and shamed and all talked out that when i am asked why i'm sad, i come up with no reason good enough to tell anyone.
sunday night, i drank a bottle of light beer and got drunk. yes, i haven't been drinking lately. but i guess a good bottle of beer plus a platter full of rigatoni was just enough to keep me buzzed. i passed out on the living room... my bag lying on top of me when i awoke the next day. my head was pounding so hard...
i am about ready to consult a psychiatrist. i think this maybe the quarter life crisis. i feel insecure and disposable all the time. perhaps it is this sad, crazy existence that allows me to explore the true depth of my hidden sorrow. maybe it's the routine. maybe it's the fact that i have nothing to come home to but an empty bed and the sound of my cellphone waking me up every morning. maybe i want to have children and i hear my biological clock going haywire.
one proof that i'm consumed is that i don't even fix my hair anymore when i go to work. i run my fingers through my hair, never mind what the hell i'm wearing and just go to work as is.
it's sad, i know but i have never really let the sorrow take me down. i am cordial and i'm still as bubbly as ever.
for now, i am tired, i feel misused and left alone. no one can explain why. maybe i am organically depressed. who knows, right? nonetheless, i am still fighting everyday to keep my sanity intact. if this is ennui, it's taking longer than i think it should take me, and that doesn't sit well with me...