til it gets so bad
I am not a happy erin right now. I don't know if it's the weather, or the meds, or the drinking or the sorority bullshit that just keeps piling up. I don't know if it's some kind of end-of-year-itis, an I-need-to-be-in-France-osis. I'm not sure.
Just feeling raw. Can't really work on anything. Can't focus. Feels like I'm slipping back into old habbits. Playing stupid puzzle-games until my eyes go fuzzy is not productive. It keeps me from thinking too much, but that's about it. Had Ms. Legs hide the matches I've collected over the year, just in case. Probably going to make an appointment with Jen.
Today I turned in a paper that I've known about for almost three weeks 8 hours late. What's wrong with me? I should have had it done days ago, or at least before I woke up today instead of lying about being sick and unable to attach the paper to an email so I'd have time to finish. I. Suck. Hardcore. It was like I couldn't do it. I would sit down, take away all distractions and still do nothing. Sit and stare until I couldn't take it anymore and found something else to do.
My fucking insurance won't cover the extended-release effexor I was on for the past couple months anymore, so my doctor switched me to regular effexor. I don't know if the meds change is what's fucking me up, but I guess it's possible. I've been on it for what.. 5 days now? 3? don't really remember. I'll give it another week or two or something and if I'm still like this then I'll call the doc and she'll give me something else, or tell me to take more or lock me up. There are times when I honestly think I do need to be put away. If people knew what my head was like they would probably think so too.
And here I go on another "I'm so unbelievably fucked-up so let's throw me a pitty-party" tirade. I hate myself when I do this. I really do. It's so pathetic, as Mr. Dustin would say. Haven't been talking to him much lately - sort of miss it. I think having a person I could just babble and rant to at all hours of the night was good for me. It's not that I don't think I could talk to anyone else.. It's just that Mr. D and I have a connection or something. :flashback to dating-times: I got him, and he got me.
My knee is still ugly. Starting to bruise yellow and purple, with a big brown and white scab in the middle. I was picking at it last night, making the scab come off to see the pink skin underneath. It doesn't feel hot anymore, but it hurts when I press on it, especially the scab itself.
I need to cover my roots, and I kind of want to be a red-head again. My normal red. I like it sometimes. When it's long like it is now, and straight and pretty. Maybe I can convince my mom to buy me all the stuff I'll need to do it when I go home.
I will not be at the hootenanny or the after-party because I think I really need to go home. I was planning on it for a little while and forgot about the hootenanny. Hopefully you won't miss me too much. I feel bad for not being there, like I'm being a bad Green and a bad friend since I don't really get to see anyone that much these days. I feel like a big turd about that. Why is it so hard for me to maintain ties with people? Why can't I just pick up a phone and call and say "hey, do you want to go to the coffee shop with me?" Why do I always let it slide?
I think things would be easier if I didn't have friendships to maintain because then I wouldn't feel guilty about it. I could just be neglectful and not have to worry. No more feeling like a douche. But..then I would be lonely and sad and no one would read my livejournal. heh.
I bought a journal to write in while I'm in France. I really want to start it now. Things are cooking in my head, and it would probably be good for me to have a notebook just for writing. The one I used to use is now my all-purpose meeting notes and list-making notebook. There's some written near the front, but I bought it at a weird time in my life and I don't like any of the stuff in there. It's like someone else wrote it. Not me. Yesterday I found some of the stuff I posted on poetry.com. And I still like a lot of it. It's still mine. Other stuff I don't feel that way about. I don't know the person who wrote those. Then I went to Josh's old stuff and realized that I don't know that person either. I never did. That person was gone before I met Josh, and I'm okay with that. I used to get upset reading it, knowing how he hurt and how he loved someone before me, but I'm starting to be okay... That Josh isn't anymore. He just isn't, just like the Erin who wrote to/for Seth isn't anymore, the Erin who filled all the notebooks under my desk at home is not me. (Insert Rent quote - there's only us, there's only this..) I'm teaching myself to let go of myself, to let go of people who aren't anymore. It's hard and easy. Forgetting is harder than forgiving, but it's what I want more. I'd forgiven everything so long ago, but I'm the kind of person who keeps things.. photos, ticket stubs, playbills, hosptial arm-bands, baby teeth, birthday cards. I'm the kind of person who needs these things to remember they had a life. But I don't want to need those things. I want to lose them all. I want it all to burn in a fire, I want to throw it all away. Maybe I will. As soon as I get home, all the things saved for sentimental reasons are gone. No more. They belonged to a me who isn't me anymore and who I don't need hanging around like a ghost to judge and taunt me.
It looks like I needed this, doesn't it? I do feel better, so maybe I will crack into that new journal soon.
"Last night my teeth fell out like ivory type-writer keys"
Just feeling raw. Can't really work on anything. Can't focus. Feels like I'm slipping back into old habbits. Playing stupid puzzle-games until my eyes go fuzzy is not productive. It keeps me from thinking too much, but that's about it. Had Ms. Legs hide the matches I've collected over the year, just in case. Probably going to make an appointment with Jen.
Today I turned in a paper that I've known about for almost three weeks 8 hours late. What's wrong with me? I should have had it done days ago, or at least before I woke up today instead of lying about being sick and unable to attach the paper to an email so I'd have time to finish. I. Suck. Hardcore. It was like I couldn't do it. I would sit down, take away all distractions and still do nothing. Sit and stare until I couldn't take it anymore and found something else to do.
My fucking insurance won't cover the extended-release effexor I was on for the past couple months anymore, so my doctor switched me to regular effexor. I don't know if the meds change is what's fucking me up, but I guess it's possible. I've been on it for what.. 5 days now? 3? don't really remember. I'll give it another week or two or something and if I'm still like this then I'll call the doc and she'll give me something else, or tell me to take more or lock me up. There are times when I honestly think I do need to be put away. If people knew what my head was like they would probably think so too.
And here I go on another "I'm so unbelievably fucked-up so let's throw me a pitty-party" tirade. I hate myself when I do this. I really do. It's so pathetic, as Mr. Dustin would say. Haven't been talking to him much lately - sort of miss it. I think having a person I could just babble and rant to at all hours of the night was good for me. It's not that I don't think I could talk to anyone else.. It's just that Mr. D and I have a connection or something. :flashback to dating-times: I got him, and he got me.
My knee is still ugly. Starting to bruise yellow and purple, with a big brown and white scab in the middle. I was picking at it last night, making the scab come off to see the pink skin underneath. It doesn't feel hot anymore, but it hurts when I press on it, especially the scab itself.
I need to cover my roots, and I kind of want to be a red-head again. My normal red. I like it sometimes. When it's long like it is now, and straight and pretty. Maybe I can convince my mom to buy me all the stuff I'll need to do it when I go home.
I will not be at the hootenanny or the after-party because I think I really need to go home. I was planning on it for a little while and forgot about the hootenanny. Hopefully you won't miss me too much. I feel bad for not being there, like I'm being a bad Green and a bad friend since I don't really get to see anyone that much these days. I feel like a big turd about that. Why is it so hard for me to maintain ties with people? Why can't I just pick up a phone and call and say "hey, do you want to go to the coffee shop with me?" Why do I always let it slide?
I think things would be easier if I didn't have friendships to maintain because then I wouldn't feel guilty about it. I could just be neglectful and not have to worry. No more feeling like a douche. But..then I would be lonely and sad and no one would read my livejournal. heh.
I bought a journal to write in while I'm in France. I really want to start it now. Things are cooking in my head, and it would probably be good for me to have a notebook just for writing. The one I used to use is now my all-purpose meeting notes and list-making notebook. There's some written near the front, but I bought it at a weird time in my life and I don't like any of the stuff in there. It's like someone else wrote it. Not me. Yesterday I found some of the stuff I posted on poetry.com. And I still like a lot of it. It's still mine. Other stuff I don't feel that way about. I don't know the person who wrote those. Then I went to Josh's old stuff and realized that I don't know that person either. I never did. That person was gone before I met Josh, and I'm okay with that. I used to get upset reading it, knowing how he hurt and how he loved someone before me, but I'm starting to be okay... That Josh isn't anymore. He just isn't, just like the Erin who wrote to/for Seth isn't anymore, the Erin who filled all the notebooks under my desk at home is not me. (Insert Rent quote - there's only us, there's only this..) I'm teaching myself to let go of myself, to let go of people who aren't anymore. It's hard and easy. Forgetting is harder than forgiving, but it's what I want more. I'd forgiven everything so long ago, but I'm the kind of person who keeps things.. photos, ticket stubs, playbills, hosptial arm-bands, baby teeth, birthday cards. I'm the kind of person who needs these things to remember they had a life. But I don't want to need those things. I want to lose them all. I want it all to burn in a fire, I want to throw it all away. Maybe I will. As soon as I get home, all the things saved for sentimental reasons are gone. No more. They belonged to a me who isn't me anymore and who I don't need hanging around like a ghost to judge and taunt me.
It looks like I needed this, doesn't it? I do feel better, so maybe I will crack into that new journal soon.
"Last night my teeth fell out like ivory type-writer keys"