Warning: Expect foul language. I often blog when sleep deprived, and even when I'm not sleep deprived I cuss.
Warning the second: TMI often occurs. Read at your own risk. Feel free to laugh at my expense (I know I do!).
Warning the third: I suppose I should just put a general Trigger Warning here. I talk about mental illness (Anxiety, panic disorder, depression, social shit), abuse (rarely), and my fucked up relationship with food. And...other things. Actually, just consider this a general warning: If you might be triggered by things, you probably should read no further.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Living in the dark

I haven't updated in forever, mostly just...trying not to be super negative and thus ignoring a lot of my problems. I've moved into my new place now, away from the roommates. So that's one less stressor, however...I was already on my way to the depths when that happened a few weeks ago, so...It helped, but I'm still there.
Sometimes all the coping mechanisms in the world, all the positive thinking, all the attained goals, everything that can be used to stave off that inevitable darkness, just doesn't work. So I found myself there again, and it...wasn't great. My new job is incompatible with my crazy so far, apparently. It sets everything off and right now I have no idea how I'm going to be able to attend school and work and succeed at both. Yeah, it's that bad. Personal hygiene? Holding by tmyhe skin of my teeth, but still struggling. Keeping my house clean?'s better than it was in similar situations in the past, but I wouldn't want anybody over. It got bad.
I have this thing about bugs and always have. I think they're really long as they're outside and nowhere near me. I've had waking nightmares (bordering on hallucinations) about bugs ever since I was kid. This was reinforced by living in a few places with bug issues. Now I live in an area with big bugs. And one was in my house. Based on stuff I looked up online, the bug I killed was an American Roach. I went off the deep end a little, though my friends talked me down online. Best brother ever. I was seeing and feeling bugs that weren't there. When I'd look closer I'd know they weren't there, wouldn't see anything, but the smallest piece of lint could explode in my mind's eye infestation of bed bugs.
Sometimes bearing the weight of it all is the hardest thing on earth. I am so afraid of not being able to follow my dreams. I spent so long not even admitting I *had* dreams. Then I dismissed them as impractical, and went after something doable that at least wouldn't make me miserable. Finally I pursued them and discovered...I can have them. I am not a person whose dreams outstrip their abilities. But...having to battle back the dreck of my insanities every day so that I can have a paycheck that just barely covers my needs at this's exhausting and disheartening.
But I keep on keeping on, as they say. I don't know what else to do. I'm holed up in my apartment most of the time. I'm starting to emerge in my head a bit, but interacting with other human beings face to face is an issue. Times like these I really wish I could win the lottery (lottery tickets are one of my coping mechanisms, actually. It tricks my crazy into thinking I can quit my job and thus gives me less grief about it) and just...get healthy. Go to doctors between now and fall semester, get dental work done (I have wisdom teeth rotting in my skull), physical therapy, regular therapy, and just...yeah. Have the time, money, and leisure to just get myself in a better place.
In the meantime I just soldier on, with my wonderful cheerleaders reminding me that I can, indeed, do it. The friends who say "AJA AJA FIGHTING" in spite of never watching the kdramas I got the phrase from. The friends who know to say "HWAITING" who have recommended more dramas to me. The friends who let me go silly on them, but can handle it when I become the angsty wonder. I love my friends, because I wouldn't be able to sustain a job that keeps a roof over my head without them.
And now I'm emerging a bit. I'm writing for myself for the first time in...months. I finally am working again on a project I started weeks ago. I'm hoping I'll be able to start reading more again (yes, that is how bad it's gotten. I couldn't READ). So hope remains, and keep your fingers crossed for me.

Monday, January 27, 2014


Haven't posted here in a long while. Ended the semester on a good note, overall GPA of 3.7...would have been higher if I hadn't procrastinated. My dad's voice in my head still tells me "That B should have been an A" and since in this case it WASN'T math, I have to agree. It should have been an A. Kicking myself on that one.
I'm not attending this semester. Didn't have the money. Spent months trying for a job and didn't get one until late December. So, that makes me sad. And a bit morose. And...feeling like I fucked things up and that I put yet another delay on my dreams when I'm not getting any younger.
Most of the time my age is just part of who I am. It's not a negative...until it comes to this. Because I'm so much older than most of my classmates, hell, I was older than two of my teachers last semester (though one of them, not by much). I'm so much older, which means that I'm going to have less time on my chosen path and it just makes me anxious. So anxious. Because I don't know if I'll have the money to pay for classes over the summer, and if that's the case it'll be a good 8 months before I get back in school. Which is a big chunk of the year.
I started training for the job I got. It's work from home, which is nice. But the schedule is not the most conducive to school. And I'm feeling so hopeless I can't even write my silly drabbles lately. I don't know how much is the job itself, how much is the school situation, and how much is just crazysauce. But...I just feel hopeless...and adrift. I fear that I will become comfortable in the rut of working a job like this (customer service for a big ol' company) and give up my dreams. I fear I'll let my fear of living like I did with my ex (one step away from eviction, surviving on ramen and peanut butter) make me make a bad decision. But I can give no less than my best, because that's how I was raised. I can already tell that I could progress in this company quite easily if I wanted to. It wouldn't even be a bad thing, necessarily, because mine is a personality that is great for a business like this. But it wouldn't be the best thing. The best thing would be to achieve my dreams and see more of the world than I currently do.
But I wish I could write right now. That would make me feel so much better. I spent my twenties mostly not writing, when it's always been one of the things that makes me happiest. I've never needed to be published, or needed acclaim, or needed recognition of my skills from any but my loved ones. I just...feel better, more whole, when I can write. Even when it's a senseless little romantic drabble. Maybe particularly then. Because those senseless little romantic drabbles are written for no one but myself, even if I do end up sharing them with my friends. But they are written solely for me, because it makes me happy to create those scenes.