I try to find pleasure in the simple things. Today I helped my aunt move her stuff and had some French fries with a shit load of ketchup that tasted great. It's been a few months atleast sense I've had some fries.
It was depressing upon retrospect that this was the closest thing to joy I could get is in some fries and helping my aunt out
I considered maybe moving with her to try and force life change. But I have no guarantee it would work. Id have to find a new job for one, but more importantly id hate to be in a new place without anyone to fall back on. My aunt's a nice woman, but I should be living with my girlfriend or friends. That to me is real progress