Not sure if the introduction of psych meds has stolen my ability to enjoy anything at all, if it’s the lack of THC (which I honestly didn’t realize was so useful in keeping my anxiety at a 2 instead of a constant 8) or if my brain has just gone KERPLUNK again.
Whatever the reason, it sucks not being able to do anything without a) panicking about it to the point of not being able to do it/being severely impaired in the doing due to panic or b) having to be so shitfaced drunk to do it I’m a danger to myself (and others).
Nothing about any of this is remotely OK.
And that’s been the story of the last month. Hurrah.
In other “I can’t believe this is actually happening to me” news, I can’t tell if I’m short of breath because this is an anxiety thing, or if my sinuses and lungs are so junked up that I simply can’t process air.
Lux: The human, the myth, the legend.
So last week was basically like getting kicked in the chest repeatedly, spitting out the blood and asking for another.
This week has been a little smoother, mentally and workload-wise but today my body completely gave up on me and brought back the vomit-comet of months gone by. I know when I’m licked. I tearfully apologized to my coworkers and turned tail for home.
I am going to rest today, I am not going to be eaten alive by anxiety and mania, and I am going to finish this week like a fucking winner if it is the last goddamned thing I do.
How do people manage to have full and productive lives? I stg I don’t understand. I guess not everyone spends the majority of their waking hours fighting against a shitlord brain. That probably saves a lot of time and energy and stress. Must be nice.
Things I am really good at:
- Character studies
- Character interaction
- Writing body language
Things I am pants at:
Sooooooo… basically these two are going to talk and posture at each other for an unknown amount of pages, probably resolve nothing, and everyone who reads it will say, “That was amazingly written! …what was it about?” So I will respond:
“I don’t know the author is dead!!!!!”
And laugh maniacally while I bury myself in a pile of unused outlines.
THIS IS MY DESIGN
Nothing feels good, everything feels bad, it’s a delusional joke to think I might be able to do grad school on top of working full time and trying to keep a lid on whatever’s broken in my brain.
I already pre-ordered a copy of Civil War on Blu Ray, but it’s not coming until the 13th. And yet, I might buy it on Amazon Video just to be able to watch it today because clearly all the options on Netflix, Amazon Prime Video and YouTube are not doing it for me.
I hate this I hate this I hate this. Why brain? It was almost easier when you just wanted to die all the time. At least then I could distract you. Now I can’t sit still for more than 5 minutes and I want to chew the walls. And yet nothing satisfies. Why this?
Went to my parents, brought the cat, beer and h’orderves at the neighbors’ tiki bar while playing with their German Shepherd, back home for dinner, back up the the neighbors for more puppy time, back to the parents, caught the cat, come home, shower, relax.
The only way this day could possibly be better would be if I were getting laid tonight, but even so everything is still such a win I can hardly care about that.
When you want to gush about how fucking hot, beautiful and talented your unrequited crush is, but she reads your tumblr and you don’t want to embarrass her or make her uncomfortable because she is also a close friend and not attracted to girls so you don’t want to jeopardize the friendship. Also you’re terrible at flirting anyway.
–A Special Interest Novel By Me