I finished my stats hw at 7pm after which I promptly got out all my Japanese hw to start… way early, I know! Typically this stuff doesn’t get done until near bedtime or even in the morning (since class isn’t until 11am). But 30 minutes past the hour I looked down at my hw and I realized I hadn’t even started it. There’s too much on my mind.
Maybe the reason why I have such a bad memory is because I don’t like memories. They make me sad.
Wow, okay so i was just wringing my hands together from slight anxiety at the thought of typing this next bit:
I don’t want to say I’m depressed because 1) it may not be true [yet] 2) it’s admitting a problem 3) it’s a weakness. Whenever I think of professing some really serious emotion on my blog I instantly think of a scenario (that actually did happen once) where I’m happy for a long period of time and then the next day I’m miserable. And someone (anyone) reads my blog, but only the entry in which I profess depression and then they see me as weak, vulnerable, a sad pathetic person, etc. It’s like… you missed out on all the good days! Why come on the day that I portray myself as depressed? This actually happened and it was pretty embarrassing for me. Life has been great… it really has, so I don’t want to go around chanting depression.
Except yeah… well I don’t know. I’m breaking down a little bit. Things are starting to get to me. I anger easily. Everything is depressing, no matter which way I spin it. Memories are hurting me. UGH. This is so not pleasant.
Honestly, I’m *trying* to focus on homework but thoughts are coming in waaay too fast and too many. The return to normalcy is so tempting, if only it were that easy! I want to be able to do a simple task and FOCUS without all these depressing thoughts.
And I’m thinking long-term again. Always a bad thing. Always. My future looks bleak, that’s for sure. But if I don’t think about it I can live day by day and it’s okay.
Everyone else is everything that I’m not.
Internal conflict. I’m fighting two different thoughts in my head. Should I go home for Thanksgiving? Should I not? Reasons for both. UGH. Mother kept asking me why I was at the new house (she’s not making me feel welcome, and something like, “When you first went to college you weren’t living with me so why do you want to come here now?”), but then if I don’t go for a holiday of course I will be the rude one and then everyone will be mad at me. Why am I thinking this far ahead in advance? It’s 20 some such days away.
Sheesh, it’s almost like I give myself things to stress about.
Empty fields move me so much more than rooms filled up with friends.
Ugh, don’t get me started on friends… or the lack of, lately.
Heart-strutter needs a new layout. There isn’t enough time in the day. Asdf!! Let me find some inspiration and then I’ll get back to this new layout business. *sigh*
For you, my heart, ripped from my chest. Eviscerated, I am. And if I could, I would plunge my fingers through my chest and rip out my heart and give it to you. A pulpy mass of morbid diathesis. In addition to my heart, there are some small organs that I want to give you: glands… sweetbreads… a variety of meats. I’m offering these gifts. Rare gifts. I know that they don’t amount to much in the face of what you’ve given me. I’ve heard these organs can’t survive outside the body for more than a few hours. But I’ll try to get there as soon as I can. Whatever happens, it will be on me. On my heart.