It's Day 7, it's evening. Time to add this first week to a different tally: my time with the outside world, spending time with real people over a real conversation and not a polite one, has been dwindling.
The last thing I did socially in a group of more than two other people was over thirty days ago, in December. I have had no social interaction, no interaction outside of office and home, in the year 2008.
It is February. Let's shoot for March.
How many days does it take to get listless and bored with the world to the point of self-destruct? Not a gross depressive episode out of despair mind you, but out of a desire for anything- anything at all- to be different? At what point does routine utterly fail to bring any kind of comfort, and in fact become a skipping record?
According to psychology, it's not clinical depression until you hit the 6 month mark. From personal experience, by the time you get to that mark and past it, it doesn't feel like anything other than normal. Which ...is weird. I also find that being antisocial, that is, hiding from one's peers and fellows, curling up in one's room with good music and a good book and ignoring 'real life' to be very addictive.
How many days does it take to get listless and bored with the world to the point of self-destruct?
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind...?
It sounds like you need something to shake up your routine. And I don't mean a stressful cross-country jaunt. Exactly what you could do is outside my expertise, but...something.
not-so-blase-because-it's-thoughtless-and-rude response: take up a hobby.
getting brain out of constant self-awareness mode is helpful. and routine tends to lead to self-awareness, since you get so accustomed to the motions. at least, that's my experience.
then again. i knit skirts and listen to books on CD every evening. it is my joy, and i am happy in it. until i realize that i have nothing to talk about except yarn and stitches and other people's writing. then one day, walking around, something happens in the corner of my eye and the decision is made to follow it and go where it leads, and sometimes it's just into the local used bookstore, and sometimes it's into conversation with someone i don't know and will never see again, and sometimes it's just to stare at a puddle reflecting something familiar in an unfamiliar way.
when the skipping record gets to the point where it annoys you, get up and turn the fucker off...
i'm all for internal locus of control, and system shocks.