(no subject)
I hear the term "keeping sane" a lot. But I don't really understand it. What is "keeping sane"? What is there to keep sane? What are you keeping?
Confession: I've spent the bulk of the last two days lying in bed. Sleeping, for the most part, until about two. I keep telling myself I'm going to get up and do something, apply for a job that's better than the one I have, but I never get around to it. Why? I don't know. I've been watching bad movies, reading books I've read before, sleeping for forty minutes, waking up, and then going back to sleep, and then finally dragging my ass out of bed around three.
My conclusion is that I have no motivation. When there is nothing concrete that I have committed to, I have no reason to do anything. Being in bed is safe, disgustingly safe, and I am a disgusting sloth who does not give a shit, and would as soon crawl into a hole and feel comforted than actually live her life.
Apparently this is depression, or something like it. I don't know. Maybe I'm just not a good person, and have come to grips with it.
What annoys me is that there is nothing of myself that I can actually grasp and say is mine. I don't know who I am, I don't identify with anything anymore. And when there's nothing you grasp, there's nothing left to keep. And what am I keeping? I'm too scared to do anything on the side of 'living'. And I know that the more I fall away, the harder it gets. But right now, I don't care. It's a lie, I do. I'd love to be living. But I make an ass of myself everytime I do. What would happen if I were to be completely uninhibitied, and to say what was actually in my head when I was out in public? It's completely impossible, of course, because I don't even know what's in my head, and I second-third-fourth-guess myself before it even happens. For some reason, I keep living for the idea that someday, someone will tell me all the magical secrets, and everything will be good, and future me will be happy, and I can live without all the weight in my mind of everything I do.
Consious says and knows this won't happen. So what will?
Confession: I've spent the bulk of the last two days lying in bed. Sleeping, for the most part, until about two. I keep telling myself I'm going to get up and do something, apply for a job that's better than the one I have, but I never get around to it. Why? I don't know. I've been watching bad movies, reading books I've read before, sleeping for forty minutes, waking up, and then going back to sleep, and then finally dragging my ass out of bed around three.
My conclusion is that I have no motivation. When there is nothing concrete that I have committed to, I have no reason to do anything. Being in bed is safe, disgustingly safe, and I am a disgusting sloth who does not give a shit, and would as soon crawl into a hole and feel comforted than actually live her life.
Apparently this is depression, or something like it. I don't know. Maybe I'm just not a good person, and have come to grips with it.
What annoys me is that there is nothing of myself that I can actually grasp and say is mine. I don't know who I am, I don't identify with anything anymore. And when there's nothing you grasp, there's nothing left to keep. And what am I keeping? I'm too scared to do anything on the side of 'living'. And I know that the more I fall away, the harder it gets. But right now, I don't care. It's a lie, I do. I'd love to be living. But I make an ass of myself everytime I do. What would happen if I were to be completely uninhibitied, and to say what was actually in my head when I was out in public? It's completely impossible, of course, because I don't even know what's in my head, and I second-third-fourth-guess myself before it even happens. For some reason, I keep living for the idea that someday, someone will tell me all the magical secrets, and everything will be good, and future me will be happy, and I can live without all the weight in my mind of everything I do.
Consious says and knows this won't happen. So what will?