New Apartment Worries
So I'm about to move into my new apartment and carpet is disgusting and there is just barely room for my bed and neighbors seem loud and it's farther away from my work and I'm looking at how expensive and slow the internet is going to be and how expensive everything will be in general and my $80,000 of debt and I'm wondering how much I fucked this up.
I mean, it was a reactive decision. It's a step down, quality-of-lifewise, but I decided it was important because of morality and standing up for my beliefs and being slightly stubborn and passive-aggressive and because deep down I don't think a person qualifies as an adult until they are living alone but I think I fucked this up.
I fucked this up. How the hell am I going to do this. My brain dissolves when I live alone. I mean, I am just barely hanging on as it is but alone? Cripes, I'm going to have to hide all the knives and pills from myself or something. No. No, no, that's overreacting. But I don't do well living alone. But I also am not doing too well living with other people right now. I'm just not doing too well in general. I don't want to try medication again. Twice was enough to terrify me of the side effects. Therapy is idiotic, boring, and somehow more depressing because I already know what they're going to try and going to say because hi, psychology major here. Queen of self-therapizing. Master of introspection.
Hell, I just really wish this migraine would go away at least. My eyeballs have been feeling ever-so-slightly melted all day.
Maybe I'll come back to this later after my brain stops trying to escape out the right frontal lobe. Maybe I'll be okay once the internet is set up and the furniture moved in. That carpet is disgusting, though.
I mean, it was a reactive decision. It's a step down, quality-of-lifewise, but I decided it was important because of morality and standing up for my beliefs and being slightly stubborn and passive-aggressive and because deep down I don't think a person qualifies as an adult until they are living alone but I think I fucked this up.
I fucked this up. How the hell am I going to do this. My brain dissolves when I live alone. I mean, I am just barely hanging on as it is but alone? Cripes, I'm going to have to hide all the knives and pills from myself or something. No. No, no, that's overreacting. But I don't do well living alone. But I also am not doing too well living with other people right now. I'm just not doing too well in general. I don't want to try medication again. Twice was enough to terrify me of the side effects. Therapy is idiotic, boring, and somehow more depressing because I already know what they're going to try and going to say because hi, psychology major here. Queen of self-therapizing. Master of introspection.
Hell, I just really wish this migraine would go away at least. My eyeballs have been feeling ever-so-slightly melted all day.
Maybe I'll come back to this later after my brain stops trying to escape out the right frontal lobe. Maybe I'll be okay once the internet is set up and the furniture moved in. That carpet is disgusting, though.