I've been having way to many "when did my life turn out to be this" moments. I feel sick inside- how all I can focus on and think about is everything that's wrong with me and how my life is. Even when those rare awesome moments come along- they end up getting pushed aside by the rest of the shit that fills my days.
I hate myself when I'm like this. But I feel so defeated. Nothing is turning out right this semester. Nothing. My classes are going to shit and I don't even know what happened that made everything go wrong. When did this start? How did it get this bad? I'm hopeless.
The worst of it is I can't talk to anyone about it. (this section was deleted)
I don't want to talk to anyone about it.
Quitting school though, that sounds so completely awesome to me right now. I just found out that another one of my friends is graduating in December. I feel so shitty. I'm never going to be done and every day is like a year and three steps back. I can't understand why this bothers me so much. I have never really liked school. I mean, I like learning and the whole interaction thing can be ok at times and I thought that going to a more laid back art school would be an overall better situation for me but I'm finding myself slumping back into old feelings about wanting to either kill myself or just cut myself off from the world (aka- giving up on everything).
I'm never going to amount to anything. I know that. I know that there isn't a god damn thing inside me that is going to make any kind of mark on society. My options aren't looking good- and that silver lining that people talk about looks black and dull to me. Not shiny and full of hope at all. I have nothing. So sitting here, thinking like this it's kind of hard to muster up any gumption toward waking up everyday, getting out of bed, brushing my teeth (which I'll have you know that I didn't do today and I don't feel bad about it at all), venturing out into the world and making an effort or even just breathing. What do I have to live for, really?
NOW STOP. You're reading this wrong. I know you are. If you are actually reading this you may be thinking something along the lines of "good grief, here she goes again." but seriously, STOP. I'm not suicidal, first off. I don't want to kill myself though I could think of at least 50 reasons why. I'm just over analyzing things and trying to find a point. I'm trying to justify trying or maybe I'm trying to justify failing. Either way I'm looking for the big picture here and I'm sick of lying to myself about everything.
I'm sick of other people lying to me. Telling me that they care and how they have faith. I have to say that I think that the word "faith" has to be my least favorite word in the english language. There's nothing productive about it and it doesn't help anyone, really.
I would stab someone to be able to smoke a cigarette while I'm writing this, right now, by the way.
All I think about every day is one of two things- what I need to do- and what I want to do. What I need to do is finish what I've started. What I want to do is always generalized in my mind. I want to get out of here. I want to turn my back on so many things, disappear from so many peoples lives and start a new life somewhere else. I don't know "what I want to do" with my life. Actually I don't really care anymore. I know what I don't want to do. Does that count? I don't want to crunch numbers for people sitting at a desk. I don't want to wipe snotty noses or pick up dog shit. I don't want to work outside in the winter. I don't want to do something that makes me lift things half as heavy as I am (if I get one skinny joke... I swear I'll kill you). I don't want to bring people food. I don't want to do something that I'll get tired of after twenty minutes (which is a challenge).
Wait- actually. I do know what I want to do. Nothing. It's always been nothing. I could think of nothing better to do with my life than live it. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that so much to ask? To let me do nothing with my life, for the rest of my life? Unfortunately we both know the answer to that- considering I do aspire to move back out of my house someday- the sooner the better... but I'm not lucky enough to be able to afford to be able to do nothing though. I never will be- so I know my future. I accept defeat. I'll be a cubicle monkey or a register slave, a retail zombie, I'll teach rug-rats how to read or answer phones for someone else for the rest of my life. fine. good. So where does that leave me and my make up anthropology midterm? I don't know. I do know that I have to go outside right now and there is a chance that this train of thought may be continued- but there is also a chance that it will end here.
now.
I hate myself when I'm like this. But I feel so defeated. Nothing is turning out right this semester. Nothing. My classes are going to shit and I don't even know what happened that made everything go wrong. When did this start? How did it get this bad? I'm hopeless.
The worst of it is I can't talk to anyone about it. (this section was deleted)
I don't want to talk to anyone about it.
Quitting school though, that sounds so completely awesome to me right now. I just found out that another one of my friends is graduating in December. I feel so shitty. I'm never going to be done and every day is like a year and three steps back. I can't understand why this bothers me so much. I have never really liked school. I mean, I like learning and the whole interaction thing can be ok at times and I thought that going to a more laid back art school would be an overall better situation for me but I'm finding myself slumping back into old feelings about wanting to either kill myself or just cut myself off from the world (aka- giving up on everything).
I'm never going to amount to anything. I know that. I know that there isn't a god damn thing inside me that is going to make any kind of mark on society. My options aren't looking good- and that silver lining that people talk about looks black and dull to me. Not shiny and full of hope at all. I have nothing. So sitting here, thinking like this it's kind of hard to muster up any gumption toward waking up everyday, getting out of bed, brushing my teeth (which I'll have you know that I didn't do today and I don't feel bad about it at all), venturing out into the world and making an effort or even just breathing. What do I have to live for, really?
NOW STOP. You're reading this wrong. I know you are. If you are actually reading this you may be thinking something along the lines of "good grief, here she goes again." but seriously, STOP. I'm not suicidal, first off. I don't want to kill myself though I could think of at least 50 reasons why. I'm just over analyzing things and trying to find a point. I'm trying to justify trying or maybe I'm trying to justify failing. Either way I'm looking for the big picture here and I'm sick of lying to myself about everything.
I'm sick of other people lying to me. Telling me that they care and how they have faith. I have to say that I think that the word "faith" has to be my least favorite word in the english language. There's nothing productive about it and it doesn't help anyone, really.
I would stab someone to be able to smoke a cigarette while I'm writing this, right now, by the way.
All I think about every day is one of two things- what I need to do- and what I want to do. What I need to do is finish what I've started. What I want to do is always generalized in my mind. I want to get out of here. I want to turn my back on so many things, disappear from so many peoples lives and start a new life somewhere else. I don't know "what I want to do" with my life. Actually I don't really care anymore. I know what I don't want to do. Does that count? I don't want to crunch numbers for people sitting at a desk. I don't want to wipe snotty noses or pick up dog shit. I don't want to work outside in the winter. I don't want to do something that makes me lift things half as heavy as I am (if I get one skinny joke... I swear I'll kill you). I don't want to bring people food. I don't want to do something that I'll get tired of after twenty minutes (which is a challenge).
Wait- actually. I do know what I want to do. Nothing. It's always been nothing. I could think of nothing better to do with my life than live it. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that so much to ask? To let me do nothing with my life, for the rest of my life? Unfortunately we both know the answer to that- considering I do aspire to move back out of my house someday- the sooner the better... but I'm not lucky enough to be able to afford to be able to do nothing though. I never will be- so I know my future. I accept defeat. I'll be a cubicle monkey or a register slave, a retail zombie, I'll teach rug-rats how to read or answer phones for someone else for the rest of my life. fine. good. So where does that leave me and my make up anthropology midterm? I don't know. I do know that I have to go outside right now and there is a chance that this train of thought may be continued- but there is also a chance that it will end here.
now.
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