Dopamine

                                    

                                          
I rarely have time for anything anymore.
The twisting deep continues to rise, and my only lifeboat are quick snatches of happiness in the form of sugars, doomscrolling, and playing videogames. 
Yes I know I could go on without these things, but I know that without anything else to put my mind to I will be struggling to exist without the waters drowning me,
And old foe I thought I'd overcome swells with a new high tide yet again. 
And I've explained this before and I'll say it again,
Nothing I do has truly brought me joy.
Drawing used to when I was a child, but if I draw now it isn't the process of doing it that brings me happiness, but rather the opinions of others over the results. 
Baking is tied to childhood memories of spending time with family, and now I do it to bring others joy. I can't remember the last time I baked something for myself because I wanted to have it. 
Singing is a way to gauge how I feel in any day. On days I sing to the songs I play, I know I'm feeling better than I usually am, because when I'm struggling in the tide I can't find my voice for myself. It doesn't bring me joy, but it brings me understanding. 
Reading takes me away from it, removing me from the tide, from the swell, from the fight. When I can focus on things, such as an hours long drawing or baking project, it does the same. It takes me away. 
"But Blythe," you say, "you've told me how much you love doing those things!"
But what I really loved was talking about them, and being around you. 
Instead of just responding to my gushing about things with "you're cute", you listened and spoke things that meant something. 
And I wish I had more people like you,
Even though you are entirely unique.
I love to talk about useless things, or meaningful things, but I hate to argue moot points,
With you it flowed, and it didn't catch like hangnails on a woven sweater, 
Dragging on and on parts that are such a small segment of the big picture. 
I argue so long over something small and ridiculous that I forget what my point was in the first place. 
I'm a yapper, but in the end I don't bring things up unless I feel like the conversation will serve a purpose or mean something. 
The purpose I love the most is to make people happy, second one is to teach someone something, third one is to make myself happy. They're all contradicted if I'm with someone who gets annoyed, makes talking to them annoying, or gets offended when I try to teach them something.
I pick up joy in conversation in scraps, and when I find people that listen I overshare and overwhelm. It's something I hate about myself.
I live for people that love to talk and love to listen, and people who love to learn new things. 
It just so happens that I am surrounded by a lot of close minded people in my day to day life. 
For someone who gets their joy from conversation, to go a day without a good one feels like wasting my time. It's those days I feel like I'm missing something I can't place, like I'm stuck in a spot of unmotivated wandering, looking for snatches of dopamine where I can get them. 
Especially with the rising tide lately. 
I know I'll get through, yes,
But it would have been easier with you.