melancholia
WARNING: WHAT FOLLOWS IS A DISENCHANTED SCREED OF A BURNED OUT, CYNICAL, POST-MODERN FAILURE.
I have been trying to keep the real life stuff out of my blog lately (because the real life stuff is truly depressing right now), so this entry is likely to seem bipolar nestled amongst memes and random frivolity. But I am, right now, tottering on the very edge of sanity and I need to let it out. By "it" I mean something, anything that might relieve the feeling of smothering sickness inside me, even for a moment.
There is something wrong with me and I do not know what it is. I do not know if it is something in my upbringing that went subtly wrong despite my parents' best intentions, or a deep-rooted character flaw that is too nebulous to pin down. This is the fail quality, a blend of laziness, lack of focus, lack of ambition, and escapism that has always been integral to my personality but went un-checked throughout my formative years because I was smart enough to succeed in school despite it. You see, the fail quality is not a hindrance in primary, secondary, or university education. I got great grades.
What the fail quality assured, however, was that while I chugged along earning my great grades, my brain was never on what I was going to do with my education, never on the future-the stuff I should care about. The school thing came so easily, so naturally, that I didn't need to have any emotional or psychological investment in any of it. All of that went into escapism, fantasy, fandom, distractions-the stuff I actually care about.
I'm not sure if the fact that I was able to detach myself from reality without repercussions in my school years caused me to care less and less about it and more about my fantasy life. Maybe if I was less intelligent I would have done poorly in school because I was too distracted by my escapism; there is no way to tell at this point.
So I just picked a college major that would be easy. At that time in my life I was into drawing shitty fanart (that I didn't even realize was absolutely shitty). If I had moved onto my current phase of writing shitty fanfiction, I am quite sure I would have chosen English as my major and would still be unable to find a job. Man, every time I think about college now, I feel like such a dumbfuck. Why would I choose digital art? I am not even interested in it. I just wasn't thinking.
Now I am paying the price for my dumbfuckery. I completely wasted college and now I am getting older and older and going nowhere. I've got no qualifications and no interest in doing anything related to the major I have (not that I have any experience to get my foot in any of those doors anyways). I find myself longing to go back and start all over. I know that getting a second degree is probably the only chance I have of freeing myself from the cage I am in, but I do not even know what I want to do. I am so crushed in spirit, so mired in escapism that I do not know how to unfuck myself. And I have that effing car payment. I think I will have to sell the car, but then how will I get around? Can I even get into college a second time? I have nobody to write me recommendations.
I can't do it over, of course. I can't go back to being 18, as much as I want to.
If I do go back to school, of course, I will have to be absolutely focused on preparing for a career. This will mean faking passion. I am bad at faking things, bad at any sort of dishonesty. But that is what I will have to do because the things I feel passionate about are not my real life. And since I am going to be forcing any enthusiasm, all my choices sort of seem the same: business? health care? accounting?
Oh, there are a few things that I really do love in real life. I love psychology, art history, literature. But let's face it, if I go back to school to study any of those things I will just have 2 degrees, be even older, and still not be able to get a job.
It is pretty bad that I find myself daydreaming back to the days when women didn't have to work. I would squeeze out a kid for some guy if it could get me out of having to get hired for a job. But I can't even date as I am now. Nobody wants to date someone with no job. I am unworthy. A parasite. But I just can't get a job. I can't even get a shitty job and I don't really know why. The rejection is starting to drag me down. I have had about 10 interviews since my seasonal job ended and none of them wanted me. How can I help feeling worthless.
Doesn't help matters that my dumb unfinished fanfiction looms over me. I am sorry, but I just can't work on it right now. And I know that this essentially makes me as worthless in fandom as I am in real life. I want to finish it so badly. I want to snap my fingers and have done. But I just don't have it in me to write fanfiction right now and the guilt of that is crushing me. I won't start anything new, of course. Not until it is done. But that might not be for a long time and that fact makes me feel like shit, unworthy.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
The people who fuck their lives up in major ways, like with drugs and crime, get advocates and get help to fix things when they turn it around. What do people like me do? People whose major crime is lack of ambition and whose drug is escapism? How do the subtle fuck-ups ever make it to their feet? I think it is especially tough because on the surface I thought I was doing everything right.
I am terrified, and depressed, and lonely, and confused.
But I am still here.
Right now I kind of feel like putting CQ in the DVD player just because Jeremy Davies is so pretty in that movie that I want reach through the screen and pet his Franz Ferdinand hair. But of course I wouldn't really do that even if it were possible because I am a decent person and not a pervert. I wish I hadn't eaten all my Jr. Mints.
I have been trying to keep the real life stuff out of my blog lately (because the real life stuff is truly depressing right now), so this entry is likely to seem bipolar nestled amongst memes and random frivolity. But I am, right now, tottering on the very edge of sanity and I need to let it out. By "it" I mean something, anything that might relieve the feeling of smothering sickness inside me, even for a moment.
There is something wrong with me and I do not know what it is. I do not know if it is something in my upbringing that went subtly wrong despite my parents' best intentions, or a deep-rooted character flaw that is too nebulous to pin down. This is the fail quality, a blend of laziness, lack of focus, lack of ambition, and escapism that has always been integral to my personality but went un-checked throughout my formative years because I was smart enough to succeed in school despite it. You see, the fail quality is not a hindrance in primary, secondary, or university education. I got great grades.
What the fail quality assured, however, was that while I chugged along earning my great grades, my brain was never on what I was going to do with my education, never on the future-the stuff I should care about. The school thing came so easily, so naturally, that I didn't need to have any emotional or psychological investment in any of it. All of that went into escapism, fantasy, fandom, distractions-the stuff I actually care about.
I'm not sure if the fact that I was able to detach myself from reality without repercussions in my school years caused me to care less and less about it and more about my fantasy life. Maybe if I was less intelligent I would have done poorly in school because I was too distracted by my escapism; there is no way to tell at this point.
So I just picked a college major that would be easy. At that time in my life I was into drawing shitty fanart (that I didn't even realize was absolutely shitty). If I had moved onto my current phase of writing shitty fanfiction, I am quite sure I would have chosen English as my major and would still be unable to find a job. Man, every time I think about college now, I feel like such a dumbfuck. Why would I choose digital art? I am not even interested in it. I just wasn't thinking.
Now I am paying the price for my dumbfuckery. I completely wasted college and now I am getting older and older and going nowhere. I've got no qualifications and no interest in doing anything related to the major I have (not that I have any experience to get my foot in any of those doors anyways). I find myself longing to go back and start all over. I know that getting a second degree is probably the only chance I have of freeing myself from the cage I am in, but I do not even know what I want to do. I am so crushed in spirit, so mired in escapism that I do not know how to unfuck myself. And I have that effing car payment. I think I will have to sell the car, but then how will I get around? Can I even get into college a second time? I have nobody to write me recommendations.
I can't do it over, of course. I can't go back to being 18, as much as I want to.
If I do go back to school, of course, I will have to be absolutely focused on preparing for a career. This will mean faking passion. I am bad at faking things, bad at any sort of dishonesty. But that is what I will have to do because the things I feel passionate about are not my real life. And since I am going to be forcing any enthusiasm, all my choices sort of seem the same: business? health care? accounting?
Oh, there are a few things that I really do love in real life. I love psychology, art history, literature. But let's face it, if I go back to school to study any of those things I will just have 2 degrees, be even older, and still not be able to get a job.
It is pretty bad that I find myself daydreaming back to the days when women didn't have to work. I would squeeze out a kid for some guy if it could get me out of having to get hired for a job. But I can't even date as I am now. Nobody wants to date someone with no job. I am unworthy. A parasite. But I just can't get a job. I can't even get a shitty job and I don't really know why. The rejection is starting to drag me down. I have had about 10 interviews since my seasonal job ended and none of them wanted me. How can I help feeling worthless.
Doesn't help matters that my dumb unfinished fanfiction looms over me. I am sorry, but I just can't work on it right now. And I know that this essentially makes me as worthless in fandom as I am in real life. I want to finish it so badly. I want to snap my fingers and have done. But I just don't have it in me to write fanfiction right now and the guilt of that is crushing me. I won't start anything new, of course. Not until it is done. But that might not be for a long time and that fact makes me feel like shit, unworthy.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
The people who fuck their lives up in major ways, like with drugs and crime, get advocates and get help to fix things when they turn it around. What do people like me do? People whose major crime is lack of ambition and whose drug is escapism? How do the subtle fuck-ups ever make it to their feet? I think it is especially tough because on the surface I thought I was doing everything right.
I am terrified, and depressed, and lonely, and confused.
But I am still here.
Right now I kind of feel like putting CQ in the DVD player just because Jeremy Davies is so pretty in that movie that I want reach through the screen and pet his Franz Ferdinand hair. But of course I wouldn't really do that even if it were possible because I am a decent person and not a pervert. I wish I hadn't eaten all my Jr. Mints.