Oy... it's been a long time. So here's an emo blog for you.
I moved back in with my mother after having been out of work for a while and selling things in order to pay my rent to Cole.
This was officially the worst mistake ever. I regret ever letting that bitch convince me there would be any benefit to this. I'd have been better off not being able to afford gas and selling a guitar for a bus pass so I could get to and from work.
Every single day there is this bullshit to deal with and I'm sick of it. I really am. I'm getting no real break on rent like I was promised. So I ended up paying money to Cole to settle things there because I am a nice guy, and I am paying almost as much in rent as I was to him. So I ended up paying rent on two places, yet I'm only living in one. The free food would be nice except there's not much of it. Most of my food needs are met by the cafeteria at work. What's not provided often times comes with the treachery of dining with my mother.
Every conversation is like an easter basket full of sarcastic commentary on my life and decisions and reminders of why I feel like a failure wrapped up in shiny foil made of passive-agressive bullshit from an aging woman desperate for someone to throw her emotional weight around on. It is very much a loathing that I feel sinking inside me and it's completely indistinguishable if it's directed outward or inward.
I used to want to leave. Just walk away from my life completely. But no, I don't want that. I just want to be happy with my life. Is it so bad to want to wake up each day and feel like there is a light at the end of the tunnel? Because each day goes by and I feel like this emotional baggage I've created for myself is just holding me down and giving me every assurance that I'll never reach that end.
I know that 1: I am responsible for my situation and that I can fix it, 2: most of this is all just irrational babble in my head which is loosely based on a slightly rough but ultimately insignificant portion of my life.
Maybe I should be seeing a shrink. Outside perspective is good, and I'm generally quite receptive to it. Even when I really need the support, I get comments that really sting (not that I should even ALLOW it to bother me, but it does). For example, I am plotting to get the hell out of here and move in with my best friend John. We're discussing the logistics of what we can afford and when we can afford it. I get a call and someone asks me what I'm doing, so I tell her I'm talking with John about moving out and I get the response "Why don't you stop just talking about it and actually do it?"
I've gotten two paychecks. And with my situation as it was, both are completely gone, with nothing saved over because I've been hit with shit that I was NOT expecting. Even so, I know I'll come out of this okay. I just have to not spend anything outside of what is absolutely necessary. Even with that, I'm going to have to take time off from work this weekend to get We Are They in the can. I hate this last minute rush stuff. I don't know how it's going to affect my overtime that I've put in so far this week.
I guess I'll do what I can to help out the rest of the week. So if I work with you, I'll probably be sick on Friday and Sunday. If nothing else, I can guarantee I'll be feeling like shit while not there. That counts as sick, right? I hate flaking out on work. But I've got to get this done.
Okay, I'm done with this emotional psycho-babble bullshit. I wish I found substance abuse more appealing, yet somehow it really isn't. Otherwise I'd be swimming in something that fucks you up real good.
This was officially the worst mistake ever. I regret ever letting that bitch convince me there would be any benefit to this. I'd have been better off not being able to afford gas and selling a guitar for a bus pass so I could get to and from work.
Every single day there is this bullshit to deal with and I'm sick of it. I really am. I'm getting no real break on rent like I was promised. So I ended up paying money to Cole to settle things there because I am a nice guy, and I am paying almost as much in rent as I was to him. So I ended up paying rent on two places, yet I'm only living in one. The free food would be nice except there's not much of it. Most of my food needs are met by the cafeteria at work. What's not provided often times comes with the treachery of dining with my mother.
Every conversation is like an easter basket full of sarcastic commentary on my life and decisions and reminders of why I feel like a failure wrapped up in shiny foil made of passive-agressive bullshit from an aging woman desperate for someone to throw her emotional weight around on. It is very much a loathing that I feel sinking inside me and it's completely indistinguishable if it's directed outward or inward.
I used to want to leave. Just walk away from my life completely. But no, I don't want that. I just want to be happy with my life. Is it so bad to want to wake up each day and feel like there is a light at the end of the tunnel? Because each day goes by and I feel like this emotional baggage I've created for myself is just holding me down and giving me every assurance that I'll never reach that end.
I know that 1: I am responsible for my situation and that I can fix it, 2: most of this is all just irrational babble in my head which is loosely based on a slightly rough but ultimately insignificant portion of my life.
Maybe I should be seeing a shrink. Outside perspective is good, and I'm generally quite receptive to it. Even when I really need the support, I get comments that really sting (not that I should even ALLOW it to bother me, but it does). For example, I am plotting to get the hell out of here and move in with my best friend John. We're discussing the logistics of what we can afford and when we can afford it. I get a call and someone asks me what I'm doing, so I tell her I'm talking with John about moving out and I get the response "Why don't you stop just talking about it and actually do it?"
I've gotten two paychecks. And with my situation as it was, both are completely gone, with nothing saved over because I've been hit with shit that I was NOT expecting. Even so, I know I'll come out of this okay. I just have to not spend anything outside of what is absolutely necessary. Even with that, I'm going to have to take time off from work this weekend to get We Are They in the can. I hate this last minute rush stuff. I don't know how it's going to affect my overtime that I've put in so far this week.
I guess I'll do what I can to help out the rest of the week. So if I work with you, I'll probably be sick on Friday and Sunday. If nothing else, I can guarantee I'll be feeling like shit while not there. That counts as sick, right? I hate flaking out on work. But I've got to get this done.
Okay, I'm done with this emotional psycho-babble bullshit. I wish I found substance abuse more appealing, yet somehow it really isn't. Otherwise I'd be swimming in something that fucks you up real good.