I'm rundown. Umotivated. Achy. Sad. Have poor concentration and zero patience. I can't fall asleep at night and all I want to do is sleep all day. I put off chores like cleaning, so the house is always a mess. I'm hypersensitive, so my feelings get hurt really easily. I also get angry at the drop of a dime and it can take hours to dissipate. When I'm alone, I feel lonely. When I'm around others, I just want to be left alone. I'm bored, but I don't feel like doing anything. I have absolutely no i
That's me: a freakin' teeter-totter. I am actually pleased that I had some moments of joy today. Hours of joy, even. I don't remember how it started, but I must have already felt somewhat optimistic because I ventured onto Facebook. I think I was looking for a particular photo and ended up finding all these pictures of me and other family members to download to my computer. Then I took the dog for a walk, and that went well so I decided to pick-up my husband from work. After picking him up, we g
I ate a little today. I was planning on not doing so, but I can only take feeling faint and/or stomach rumbling for so long. I had actually taken a shower today, so I headed to the mall where my husband works and got my free Auntie Annie's pretzel (thanks T-mobile Tuesdays). I was too cheap to buy a drink for a few dollars, so I went to Tropical Smoothie instead and spent even more on a Sunrise Sunset smoothie. At least it had real fruit in it, but they make them too big. Anyway, after doing som
I can't lose weight. Maybe I'm just not trying hard enough. I don't know how people eat little to no sugar for the rest of their lives without being miserable. What am I supposed to do indulge in to feel better if I take away all my favorite foods?
Add to that, that every time I work out, I'm in intense pain. My left leg is always bothering me, and I still haven't gotten around to finding a doctor who actually believes me or cares enough to investigate it. I can push through a little bit of
Ok, so maybe I'm the traitor and not my body. I don't go to sleep when I should. I don't work out as much as I could. And I give in to sugar and carb cravings far too often. I know I should really be mad at myself and not my body. Two years ago, I miraculously reached my goal weight and I was so happy. I fit into a pair of jeans I hadn't been able to get into for years, and I even posted on Facebook about it. After that, I started to get lazy. I stopped working out everyday and recording everyt
I was in high school, trying to convince my parents to let me stay home because I wasn't prepared for my classes....and then I was woken up by my husband for the second time to get ready for my psychiatrist appointment. Admittedly, I was more than a little peeved about having to go to the appointment. It's about that time when I start feeling like no medication will work, and I'm just wasting time and money. Also--I don't know why--but I feel a little embarrassed and uncomfortable when I have to
...That's my problem.
I want to write, but I never feel like I have anything to say.
I'm not an interesting person. My own life bores me. I have a fairly active imagination, but something happens in the process of getting it to the page. My inner critic I guess. She sits by my ear, and she doesn't have an off button.
But all of this applies to fiction. Writing a blog is another thing, with its own set of problems. Mainly being brave enough to be vulnerable. I read a quote somewher
It's a little after 1 am here, and I'm feeling pretty restless. I've been eating more in the latter part of the day than the morning, so I'm back to being up half the night and sleepy all morning long. My pdoc put me on a pill that was supposed to make me very tired. Ironically, I'm usually very tired and this pill has had no affect on me in that respect at all. But I'm getting to that point again where I'm starting to resent taking pills. Why should I pay for these pills and take them each nigh
It's raining, and the rain always seems to breed nostalgia. (I might have stolen that sentiment from a Pablo Neruda poem but I'm too lazy to check. Either way, it feels true.)
I'm thinking about all the things I miss.
I miss my old therapist. The last therapist I had, the best one. I felt comfortable with her, and I told her things I've never told anyone. If I had been able to have more sessions with her, I probably would have told her a lot more. In my last session when she told me sh
I missed a whole day. I took too many klonipin on Thursday and the next thing I knew it was Friday night. I didn't feel sick or anything, just confused. The biggest confusion of all is that klonipin really can make you sleep if you take enough of them. Who knew?
Well since I hadn't eaten all day, I decided to go to the Wendy's that's open late night to get some food. I missed them by a few minutes, although I could see someone inside but didn't want to bother her. Looks like she was packin
I hate the things I can't say, but can't stop thinking about.
I hate the things you don't acknowlege, because you don't care about them.
I hate the way I feel when I'm around you, and how I won't walk away.
I hate the sacrifices I've made, and the challenges I gave up on.
I hate that I can't continuously and vehemently hate you,
but that I also can't stop periodically hating you.
I hate that I probably hate myself more than I hate you,
which is what makes it ha
My day officially started when my cell phone's alarm announced I had to get up and get ready to drive to my parents' house to watch my mom. I was tired and achy from my usual night insomnia so driving to the next city where my parents live was something I was not looking forward to. I got there, and things were already looking bad. I've known for a while that my mom suffers from memory loss and confusion. She doesn't have an actual diagnosis yet, despite my dad's efforts to get her much needed h
I hate my life.
Maybe I'm just not grateful enough. Unlike others in the world, I'm not homeless. I'm not living in a war-torn country. I'm not a victim of abuse or addiction. I have food and clean water and even TV, internet access, a car and a cell phone. I have a husband and a cute puppy and parents and sisters.
And yet I still hate my life.
Nothing about it is satisfying to me. I can be "content" when things are particularly going my way--but it's like a fleeting contentment
An hour ago, I was in a rare but oddly good mood. An optismistic mood where I was contemplating getting things done. Now that's fading and I'm back to my tired, lethargic, pessimistic state. My "normal" state. I feel really down. Feeling like this after a short spell of happiness is somehow even worse.
I guess I'm not really sick of being anxious and depressed or I'd try harder to not be. I don't really try. I'm currently not on meds nor seeing a pdoc like I'm supposed to be. I don't believ
It's not even a game, really. It's a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad habit. Or a compulsion? Or just a negative result of my avoidant personality. Anything uncomfortable--so, basically, a lot of frickin' things!--is something I'm willing to put off as long as possible. Maybe there was a time when I could put things off and get away with it (youth and helicopter parents can be a privilege), but those days are far gone now. But I never learn.
I'm so mad at myself. And I know I'll procrastinate a
I'm so miserable. I'm sad, angry, lonely, fatigued, lazy, bored, frustrated, overwhelmed, in physically pain, confused, disgusted, ambivalent and more. I feel like I want to vent, but I don't know how without censoring myself. I just wish I could tell people what I really think of them, or openly rage about the things I think are effed up. I wish I felt like someone really understood me. That feels like such an adolescent thing to say, but I really don't feel like anyone knows me. And a lot of i
i feel like a wingless bird
too afraid to sing.
or have i lost my voice?
it's impossible to know.
and do i have the choice
to sing a mournful song,
or is it too dangerous
to sing it?
i feel like a falling star
who crashes toward the earth,
moving far too fast,
and losing all control.
and i don't have the stregnth
to keep myself afloat;
will i crash and burn,
or won't i?
~I often wonder why I get treated like a child, but when I stop and reflect, I realize that I act like one a good deal of the time. Is it possible for one's maturity to stagnate, or even fall backwards? If so, how will I ever stand on my own two feet?
~I spend an exorbitant amount of time trying to talk myself out of how I really feel. Not only do I judge my feelings--which I don't necessarily think is a bad thing most of the time--but I harbor them like fugitives instead of working through th
I have a strong desire
To fall into the sea--
And feel the water carry me,
And the sun paint my body with its rays,
And the salt of the air pierce my tongue,
And shrill caw of the gulls beckon from the distant sky,
And the wind and waves toss me to and fro--
And I will fear nothing--
Not even the shark’s bite or the jellyfish’s sting,
Or the impenetrable night or the angry storm--
Because I will have surrendered
To the uncertainty of things
And that’s all there is,
all there will e
Sometimes it’s as if reality is right in front of me but just out of reach. It’s the white rabbit, and I’m Alice—and I can’t quite keep up with the skittish animal determined to flee my reach. It’s a never-ending race through rose bushes and brambles, trying not to snag my clothes on any thorns as I run far faster than my body can handle but still too slowly to reach my prey. It’s exhausting, it’s frustrating, it’s maddening. And if I stop to let myself really look at the situation, I see that I
Motivation is such an illusive little beast. Like a sweet pet, it sits in my lap and obeys attentively every time the new year approaches. As a result, I start getting lofty ideas about what I can do and all the impressive things I will accomplish with Motivation by my side. I somehow believe that if I just try harder this year, I can make all my dreams come true. Get in shape? Sure. Write a book? Of course. Beat depression? Well...why not? My sweet, sweet Motivation will not leave me this time
My whole adult life I’ve been in a relationship. The first began a few months into college and went on for more than five years. The second--and last-- just ended. That one began a few months into moving to Florida and lasted about five years. Notice a pattern, anyone? (It just clicked for me, right now, to be honest.)
I think I’ve been so afraid of being alone that I subconsciously clung to people I felt safe with. Not to say I didn’t love them, because I did. I cared for them a great deal, an
i was the thorn in your side
i was the shadow and you were the light
i was the fall, you're the pride
you were the moon and i was the night
never deserved all your love
you never deserved all the pain
you were the branch and the dove
and i was the gilded cage
now it's time for me to open the latch;
fly away now and find safer ground
fly so high that you'll make me proud
and enjoy the new land you've found
and if sometime you think of me,
i'll only be so lucky for that
and if someti
The problem with looking at yourself for who you really are is that, once done, you can't go back. The ignorance is gone, and even if you try to cling to that, deep down you'll know that you're desperately grasping onto a fading illusion. I think that's why I hear alarm bells whirring in my head anytime I approach some new discovery about myself. I don't want to see it, because I don't want it to be real. And I don't want it to be real, because that means I'm going to have to deal with it eventu
Another year, another opportunity. Whether that opportunity will lead to success or failure is an unknown. Whether i grab that opportunity or let it slip through my fingers like sand is also something I can't predict at this time. The only thing I truly know is this: time doesn't stand still. It is the only thing I know to be constantly in flux. Ironically, it never quite feels consistent. Sometimes it runs, sometimes it crawls, sometimes it lurches at an agonizingly slow pace. It seems to slow