mental health confession
It's been forever, I know.
I look up/half stalk people I knew, or know, most of which fairly accessible there on the face books, and they have done things, and in the last three years, I have been stuck.
Career-wise.
Not growth-wise, not for three years, but for a good long while now.
Life path-wise, too.
Maybe even about things I can't say. Please leave out the talking-to. I know where the things I say/write am coming from. Nonetheless, I feel them.
I will not, this time, talk about romance or sex or relationships, except to say this: I continue to carry on with same-named gentlemen, one of which is my boyfriend. This is positive.
Watching the last of the day's sun fade through my drawn blinds, I am exhausted by the unasked questions. Agoraphobia? Boredom? Laziness? Clinical indecision? There are times when I cannot entertain my thoughts for very long. Come to think of it, perhaps these occasions are more frequent than I realize, resulting in time spent sleeping, watching TV, wasted on the internet, smoking pot, eating.
For some reason --is he the friend-guy (BFF listener, friend-zoned dude), only well-disguised? Hmm -- César has been patient and helpful with this severe lost-ness. I do not question his concern for a friend, but his interest in being involved with someone who has nothing good/cool to contribute. He suggests that I do what I love. Easy for him to say, I think. It's too late for me to pursue half the things that I am interested in, especially with the aim of making money at them. When Cé says that we are the same, he means neurotic. I do not particularly agree but the idea of being accompanied is nice.
I am petrified of going home like this.* I am petrified of going on like this.**
* So I have stayed. **So I must not. I must move on.
I look up/half stalk people I knew, or know, most of which fairly accessible there on the face books, and they have done things, and in the last three years, I have been stuck.
Career-wise.
Not growth-wise, not for three years, but for a good long while now.
Life path-wise, too.
Maybe even about things I can't say. Please leave out the talking-to. I know where the things I say/write am coming from. Nonetheless, I feel them.
I will not, this time, talk about romance or sex or relationships, except to say this: I continue to carry on with same-named gentlemen, one of which is my boyfriend. This is positive.
Watching the last of the day's sun fade through my drawn blinds, I am exhausted by the unasked questions. Agoraphobia? Boredom? Laziness? Clinical indecision? There are times when I cannot entertain my thoughts for very long. Come to think of it, perhaps these occasions are more frequent than I realize, resulting in time spent sleeping, watching TV, wasted on the internet, smoking pot, eating.
For some reason --is he the friend-guy (BFF listener, friend-zoned dude), only well-disguised? Hmm -- César has been patient and helpful with this severe lost-ness. I do not question his concern for a friend, but his interest in being involved with someone who has nothing good/cool to contribute. He suggests that I do what I love. Easy for him to say, I think. It's too late for me to pursue half the things that I am interested in, especially with the aim of making money at them. When Cé says that we are the same, he means neurotic. I do not particularly agree but the idea of being accompanied is nice.
I am petrified of going home like this.* I am petrified of going on like this.**
* So I have stayed. **So I must not. I must move on.