first journal

I took the bus into Santa Monica today from Malibu.  It's been raining pretty steadily but I still wanted to come.  I am glad I did.  I went to the movies to see "Hugo" but left shortly after it began - just wasn't into it enough to stay.
I ended up going to my favorite english pub, had a "black and tan" and some lunch.
After drinking I grew kind of melancholy (I try not to drink too often because of the med Zyprexa that I take but once in a while is ok I think and it seems to be working to be ok for me.)  As I grew melancholy though that was a red flag to watch out for the drinking - which I dd. I just thought of wanting to write about the family I never had - 43 never married and no kids.  It's a solitary life I lead and I fill it the best I can with diversions and seeking work but sometimes I have to shake my head when the emotional tide of the life that seemingly passed me by.
If this is indulgent I just really felt the need and wanted to honor what I was experiencing today and thought this place the best place to come to after lunch.
I am at the library writing my first journal entry.  I have so much to be thankful for. I have a place to live - and a family that loves me - and just a few friends who make life definitely worth living.  Though at times I definitely want more. It's just this effing illness that has my mind in a delapidated vice grip.
Not sure what I am capable of still - but I hope for the best outcome.  If I do get a job - dammit I am gonna soar! ha! Wouldn't that be something!
Anyways if you read this, just thanks for reading.  Have a super day ahead and a wonderful holiday season.
pax,
Mark