hating my life
Where do I even begin?
I'm still in SC, bored out my mind, dying to return to France. I've been home four weeks now. I love being home, don't get me wrong. It's great sleeping in my own bed, being able to call my friends whenever I want, watching TV, driving my own car, going to Furman and seeing my sisters...but I feel restless, in limbo, like a bump on a log. I'm not working. I'm not doing anything productive. And I hate that.
I'm stressed as hell. I keep having to distract myself with mindless escapism, which is hard to accomplish as I become more bored each day. I read a lot, watch too much TV, play farmville obsessively, read MLIA for hours on end...anything to distract me from this overwhelming feeling of depression and helplessness.
I keep on telling myself I'm lucky it wasn't worse. It's better to survive. Dying isn't a good thing. But I selfishly just don't want to deal with all this shit. I don't know how I'm supposed to handle it. And if I had died I wouldn't have to.
Yes, it's a horrible thing to think. I try not to think of it. Escapism. If I think about dealing with the French social security to hopefully pay my hospital bills...then what to do if they won't pay my hospital bills...I'm going to a) screw up my credit score, by either not paying my hospital bills because I literally can't or by having to rack up credit card debt b) apply to Kappa's Rose McGill fund for emergency money and hope I qualify c) be in more debt to my parents as they carry more debt that they can't afford right now, not with Jeremy about to start college and Mom just having her knee replacement.
And thinking all this makes me panicky and keeps me from sleeping at night and I start crying or breathing hard and I lose my appetite although not for long because prednisone sucks and all I want to do is curl into a ball and die so that I don't have to worry about anything anymore.
I hate feeling like this, I hate thinking like this, and so I just avoid it, I pretend it's not happening, I read books, I watch TV, I fool around online.
Physically, I'm fine. The drugs are doing their job. But I'm a mental, emotional, psychological wreck.
I'm still in SC, bored out my mind, dying to return to France. I've been home four weeks now. I love being home, don't get me wrong. It's great sleeping in my own bed, being able to call my friends whenever I want, watching TV, driving my own car, going to Furman and seeing my sisters...but I feel restless, in limbo, like a bump on a log. I'm not working. I'm not doing anything productive. And I hate that.
I'm stressed as hell. I keep having to distract myself with mindless escapism, which is hard to accomplish as I become more bored each day. I read a lot, watch too much TV, play farmville obsessively, read MLIA for hours on end...anything to distract me from this overwhelming feeling of depression and helplessness.
I keep on telling myself I'm lucky it wasn't worse. It's better to survive. Dying isn't a good thing. But I selfishly just don't want to deal with all this shit. I don't know how I'm supposed to handle it. And if I had died I wouldn't have to.
Yes, it's a horrible thing to think. I try not to think of it. Escapism. If I think about dealing with the French social security to hopefully pay my hospital bills...then what to do if they won't pay my hospital bills...I'm going to a) screw up my credit score, by either not paying my hospital bills because I literally can't or by having to rack up credit card debt b) apply to Kappa's Rose McGill fund for emergency money and hope I qualify c) be in more debt to my parents as they carry more debt that they can't afford right now, not with Jeremy about to start college and Mom just having her knee replacement.
And thinking all this makes me panicky and keeps me from sleeping at night and I start crying or breathing hard and I lose my appetite although not for long because prednisone sucks and all I want to do is curl into a ball and die so that I don't have to worry about anything anymore.
I hate feeling like this, I hate thinking like this, and so I just avoid it, I pretend it's not happening, I read books, I watch TV, I fool around online.
Physically, I'm fine. The drugs are doing their job. But I'm a mental, emotional, psychological wreck.