hmmmm. interesting.

this is an angst blog i suppose oops. originally a writing sideblog. mostly because i was starting to feel weird about posting prose and writing and occasional angst writing to my main blog. theres a few too many people there now.

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what the fuck is anyone going to tell me that i dont already know.

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and the thing I've been trying desperately not to think, not to say, for weeks, months.

what a fucking waste of my time. what a fucking waste of my effort. What a fucking waste of my love. what a fucking pointless use of my time. absolutely fucking pointless.

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what a fucking waste of my time. nothing meant anything to you, long term, did it? so me trying to make it that way literally. didnt fucking matter. what a fucking waste of my time. useless.

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and the thing I've been trying desperately not to think, not to say, for weeks, months.

what a fucking waste of my time. what a fucking waste of my effort. What a fucking waste of my love. what a fucking pointless use of my time. absolutely fucking pointless.

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"i hope you have a pillar of something good and stable going on" yeah me fucking too. in theory my friend are that except how more and more it feels like favors and favors and favors. it feels like work.

everyone asking. what can they do to help? and i want to snap. leave me the fuck alone. that's what.

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I'm just angry and would like to not deal with people for. weeks. maybe months. it doesn't really matter, except for how it matters to me. it doesn't really matter, except for how it does.

I'm having a breakdown outside of a sex toy shop over how i want my life to be different and it's not. two years later and I'm back there again. everything says i can wait and- of fucking course i can. i know that. ive always known that. that's not my fucking problem. i can wait forever and the important things never change.

you shouldnt change for other people. yeah no fucking shit. i dont need you to tell me that.

i dont need you to tell me anything, actually. fuck off. fuck off. fuck off.

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"i hope you have a pillar of something good and stable going on" yeah me fucking too. in theory my friend are that except how more and more it feels like favors and favors and favors. it feels like work.

everyone asking. what can they do to help? and i want to snap. leave me the fuck alone. that's what.

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the hard thing about feeling shitty is that its not like i dont know the good things to do. its that i dont want to. its that doing all the shit to feel better feels like scraping out the bottom of an empty barrel. its not that i dont knnow what to do. its that i dont want to. its that im angry. its that the effort needed feels like running on empty.

its not that i dont know what to do. its that i dont fucking want to.

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well, i know we're in trouble because right now my life feels like a long laundry list of obligations for other people. like tasks and reaponsibilities i am gritting my teeth and white knuckling through.

i know we're in trouble because normally its up, and down, and all of this is just. annoying. flat. and even. annoying. annoying. annoying. i fucking hate this shit. all of it.

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i sure do get a lot of feedback about wanting to get things right, not just get things done. much to think about.

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maybe some time last year i thought about it like. revving an engine to get out of ruts

Like. In bad times. Slamming harder on the gas. steering into the downhill.

Like this- forcing it harder, to get that second of clarity.

and then the moment when. it felt like the stick shift snapped off in my hand. putting all my weight on the lever and having it snap in half.

all the things to do. and no desire to do it.

i have three days to do my checkpoint. i wasted the last three hours of work.

i dont think i can do this.

im going to sleep early tonight. and see if i can make things work tomorrow.

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"are you scared of almost turning thirty" well in theory yes theres your whole standard baggage about life milestones. on the other hand, i didnt really think i was gonna make it this far so at least i have fewer missed goals. not zero. but significantly fewer.

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and i mean. i have two years, I guess. and my life has changed- dramatically, in the last two. so im not /unhopeful/ about it continuing to get where i want it to in the next 2 years.

in theory. in theory. in theory.

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"are you scared of almost turning thirty" well in theory yes theres your whole standard baggage about life milestones. on the other hand, i didnt really think i was gonna make it this far so at least i have fewer missed goals. not zero. but significantly fewer.

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she asks: what do you want right now. like what does your heart want? and i laugh and say. a nap, maybe.

(sorry- its not you, really. its not that i dont have thing i want, in my heart and my chest and my gut. its just that- those are mine, in a way hard to explain. Sharing is easy when its okay. hard when its worse. Its not that I dont have these feelings, but sometimes I really just. Dont feel like explaining it.)

(its not you, exactly. But i dont feel like telling you.)

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when i hate myself enough doing anything nice for myself doesnt feel rewarding at all. it just feels like work. it feels like work with a stupid reward. i wont even necessrily feel better and now ive stripped away even that last little bit of power.

im hungry and im angry because even if i eat im doing something bad for myself and being kind to myself right now feels. pointless. and stupid.

i deserve worse. i wish i could do worse. wish i could do something. fucking anything.

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i know we're in trouble when my life is easier when you aren't around

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every fucking day my stupid fucking sibling does some fuck ass shit and somehow it becomes everyone else problem that she cant fucking think ahead or consider the external world more than . like. one fucking day at a time.

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the thing about depression is that it doesnt feel like a pit. it would be nicer maybe, if it did. because then youre. you know, in the pit and theres a reason youre. stuck in one place and disheveled and covered in dirt and have fucked up your ankle.

the thing about depression is that it. feels like a pit. but its not one. the world is still spinning and the sun is still shining and birds are chirping and youre just . stuck. in place. and everything is awful and dark and heavy and annoying.

except its not, the world is still going along, as it was, as it always does. you feel awful and trapped and heavy and all of these other adjectives you can conjure and its so important that. its not real. except to you.

its all in your head. the problem is that you live there.

depression is like a. pit, inside your own head. like a trap you fall into, like a familiar rock bottom after you tumble, again. again. again. depression is like. nothing. to anyone but you. nothing discernable, just. you, saying. i wish this wasnt happening. and no one will understand why. unless you tell them.

but whats the point? you tell them and they nod, and keep walking, because theres no pit and the sun is still shining and its just. you. its just you. if you throw a temper tantrum, if you fall to the floor. if you stay in the same place.

its all just you.

its all in your head, you know. thats the problem, right? because you live there.

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associations are so fucking stupid

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what do you mean i cant go to fucking sweden. what do you mean i cant play repo in the human museum. what so you mean. what do you fucking mean.