Today's word is: mediocrity
I'm coming down off that high. Life doesn't suck, and I don't really suck at it, but neither life nor I am really enthused by that fact.
I'm having problems with personal issues that I don't really understand, and for once, I really don't care to understand. I used to have a strong negative reaction to adversity, which usually drove me to overcome it through a productive combination of anger, frustration, disappointment, and obstinacy. I used to have a compulsion to fix things, and I overanalyzed things so I could tear things apart and rebuild. Now, it's just apathy. I shrug at adversity. I stare vacantly at problems. I leave things as they are. It would worry me, but I just can't bring myself to care.
No, that's not true. I'm worried that I'm not worried. But I can't really bring myself to worry about that. It's as if, on some fundamental level, I'm split. One part cares. It's freaking out. It's angry, frustrated, disappointed, and obstinate. It's tired. The other part has stopped. Everything. Just stopped. Like a state of suspended animation that was never really that animated to begin with. And it's a pervasive, insidious blah that's becoming rather appealing to that other, tired part.
All of my usual coping mechanisms are failing me. All of my unusual coping mechanisms are failing me. I think the problem is that I don't really have a problem. I don't need to cope. Coping means there's something wrong and you're trying to deal. But how can you cope if you feel like nothing's wrong? Or if you just feel like nothing? Is that wrong?
I know exactly the sorts of things I should be doing to get back on track. To get to where I want to be. The thing is, I can't gather the strength to do them, even though I know I have the strength somewhere. Even though I know that if I tried these things to get back on track, I'd inevitably get there. But I'm not really sure if that's even where I want to be anymore, and there's a part of me that just doesn't want to be anywhere. It just wants to be. Preferably alone.
Welcome to January.
I'm having problems with personal issues that I don't really understand, and for once, I really don't care to understand. I used to have a strong negative reaction to adversity, which usually drove me to overcome it through a productive combination of anger, frustration, disappointment, and obstinacy. I used to have a compulsion to fix things, and I overanalyzed things so I could tear things apart and rebuild. Now, it's just apathy. I shrug at adversity. I stare vacantly at problems. I leave things as they are. It would worry me, but I just can't bring myself to care.
No, that's not true. I'm worried that I'm not worried. But I can't really bring myself to worry about that. It's as if, on some fundamental level, I'm split. One part cares. It's freaking out. It's angry, frustrated, disappointed, and obstinate. It's tired. The other part has stopped. Everything. Just stopped. Like a state of suspended animation that was never really that animated to begin with. And it's a pervasive, insidious blah that's becoming rather appealing to that other, tired part.
All of my usual coping mechanisms are failing me. All of my unusual coping mechanisms are failing me. I think the problem is that I don't really have a problem. I don't need to cope. Coping means there's something wrong and you're trying to deal. But how can you cope if you feel like nothing's wrong? Or if you just feel like nothing? Is that wrong?
I know exactly the sorts of things I should be doing to get back on track. To get to where I want to be. The thing is, I can't gather the strength to do them, even though I know I have the strength somewhere. Even though I know that if I tried these things to get back on track, I'd inevitably get there. But I'm not really sure if that's even where I want to be anymore, and there's a part of me that just doesn't want to be anywhere. It just wants to be. Preferably alone.
Welcome to January.