Inside My Own Head

I try to abstain from writing entirely self-reflective and naval-gazing posts, but this time it cannot be helped. Those of you who have read my posts in the past, which is no more than five people, should be aware that I mostly try to tie my ranting to some bizarre or funny piece of news; unfortunately, a fierce introspection has taken hold. Recently, I have noticed an unwillingness to leave my house. It's not out of fear, or at least I don't believe it is, though I do feel uneasy every time I leave. Not terribly long ago I was quite happy to go out to bars, drink and talk with friends amongst throngs of other drunks. Now it is not so, and best as I can tell it's not because I no longer enjoy a drink or talks with friends, but they no longer hold the pull that they once did. I sit at home now, reading, watching nonsense on the internet, playing video games, and looking at porn. I have lost contact with many of my friends; choosing to let relationships slide quietly into the ether. I have no rational reason, just an odd subconscious dread of the outside world. I truly believe I am beginning my descent into madness. This is all the more reason that I should be reaching out to others, but the desire is just not there. Well, perhaps it's nothing.