No rants, no nothing.
Okay, I'm in an emotional, mental and physical fat-slumped-up zone.
Emotionally, I think my train having crashed sometime in 2009 (about the time I was screaming at my friends out of car-windows) has yet to be picked up and put back on the rails-- the conductor *me* is just staring at the wreckage and wondering what the fuck she's going to do to fix this, her brief stint at calling in a repair crew *psychologist* having been re-booked and re-scheduled and then just 'fuck it, I don't have the emotional energy to race after help' in the end--- is still crashed. Stuff from ages ago (the house fire) is stirring worse in me than before and I am overwhelmed with this disgusting level of loneliness that draws me spiraling into depression like a vaccum cleaner sucking in dust. (translation: everyone else is getting more sex than me)
Mentally, I'm not sure if my writing motivations have been down due to the train, and just gotten worse.... or if I am becoming wildly undisciplined toward my craft. I want to be a published author. But I need to finish a goddamn story. I can't sit down and fucking do it. I keep thinking that if I can sort out my life and get money and stability, I will be better again and able to write. But I am worried that my life will continue to just spiral as it has since college-- hell, since I left Calwell. If I can't get some stability and good vibes back, will I be able to finish a fucking thing?
Physically, I think it's worse that I /know/ I'm 30kgs overweight. Worse when I pick up a size 16 shirt that I should be able to fit, only I need a 20. >.<; I have no money to pay for an exercise class, and I have no emotional motivation to get thin because even thin I'm not an attractive person; I need support to start a work-out regime that doesn't revolve around 'you're so fat, you're going to die, guys will like you more if you're skinny' because that doesn't work for me. Also, my insomnia (which noooo one knows about--- erm, whoopps?) that's been constant, I finally told the doctor about. he gave me sleeping pills; I had the best few nights sleep in a while and woke up feeling refreshed. It shouldn't have been such a relief to get some REMs for the first time in ages.
So yeah, a cry out to my friends-- HELP. Tell me that you're my friend? Tell me why? Please, dear goddess, give me something to smile about. I need a PEP talk. I need emotional smut. I don't know what the fuck I need.
Emotionally, I think my train having crashed sometime in 2009 (about the time I was screaming at my friends out of car-windows) has yet to be picked up and put back on the rails-- the conductor *me* is just staring at the wreckage and wondering what the fuck she's going to do to fix this, her brief stint at calling in a repair crew *psychologist* having been re-booked and re-scheduled and then just 'fuck it, I don't have the emotional energy to race after help' in the end--- is still crashed. Stuff from ages ago (the house fire) is stirring worse in me than before and I am overwhelmed with this disgusting level of loneliness that draws me spiraling into depression like a vaccum cleaner sucking in dust. (translation: everyone else is getting more sex than me)
Mentally, I'm not sure if my writing motivations have been down due to the train, and just gotten worse.... or if I am becoming wildly undisciplined toward my craft. I want to be a published author. But I need to finish a goddamn story. I can't sit down and fucking do it. I keep thinking that if I can sort out my life and get money and stability, I will be better again and able to write. But I am worried that my life will continue to just spiral as it has since college-- hell, since I left Calwell. If I can't get some stability and good vibes back, will I be able to finish a fucking thing?
Physically, I think it's worse that I /know/ I'm 30kgs overweight. Worse when I pick up a size 16 shirt that I should be able to fit, only I need a 20. >.<; I have no money to pay for an exercise class, and I have no emotional motivation to get thin because even thin I'm not an attractive person; I need support to start a work-out regime that doesn't revolve around 'you're so fat, you're going to die, guys will like you more if you're skinny' because that doesn't work for me. Also, my insomnia (which noooo one knows about--- erm, whoopps?) that's been constant, I finally told the doctor about. he gave me sleeping pills; I had the best few nights sleep in a while and woke up feeling refreshed. It shouldn't have been such a relief to get some REMs for the first time in ages.
So yeah, a cry out to my friends-- HELP. Tell me that you're my friend? Tell me why? Please, dear goddess, give me something to smile about. I need a PEP talk. I need emotional smut. I don't know what the fuck I need.