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Entry tags:
19.
Things are bad for me ATM. I put on a brave face about it but the failed job was extremely unpleasant in parts, on and off the clock. Yet, I have guilt about quitting it though I wasn't good at it and the living environment would've driven me crazy. I got a really bad cough from the cigarette smoke and dust the unseasonable rainy weather keeps setting off, too.
I'm really tired and job searching is extremely hard. Job provider can give me appointment to arrange extra support, but I have to wait at least a fortnight. The weird teeth/shoulder/neck/etc ache is flaring up today and from observation it seems to be triggered by the extremely harmful activity of... sitting on the couch and reading books...?
The house has tipped over the line from 'messy' to 'so messy even I'm grossed out' and I got no oomph to clean it. Housemate is in no state to contribute and their self-deprecation is getting a bit tired. Debt getting bigger. Have ruled out living at Mum's to save money to live as her house literally makes me sick.
My spare energy every day is siphoned into doing things for other people. My spare brain cycles are busy worrying for other people. My word count is at a dead standstill and my drawing is as bad as it's ever been. I wake up and my first thought is 'what bullshit has happened in the world when I was asleep?' It's been like that for about a month and a half now.
The one thing I've managed is going to the gym regularly, but despite lifting slightly heavier things than when I started, all it's notably achieved so far is giving me a stomach ulcer.
Yes, really.
So it's with immense irritation I write this post. I don't know what to do about this cornucopia of bad feeling. It's not like this is a particularly new situation, I guess I feel worse than usual because I'm reminded just how difficult, if not impossible, it is for me to escape my circumstances and my own goofy brain chemistry. The thought of me being in this situation for another year or so... it just sucks, man. Having to struggle just to squeeze some words of fiction out of my head sucks. Being constantly leaned on by people and listening to their troubles and having them totally derail my attempts to sort my own shit out because every time I try to tell them to give me a break winds up with ME feeling bad... it effing sucks!!!
The suckiest part is I have become totally dejected about the possibility of changing this situation. This has gone on for so long I find myself planning and thinking under assumption that I'll be thousands of dollars in debt and being the bellhop for peers and family for the rest of my life. So why bother taking twenty minutes out to write? my brain asks. Because I'm becoming an intolerable person that's why!!! Gawd. I'm going home to try not to throw the dirty dishes over the balcony, now.
I'm really tired and job searching is extremely hard. Job provider can give me appointment to arrange extra support, but I have to wait at least a fortnight. The weird teeth/shoulder/neck/etc ache is flaring up today and from observation it seems to be triggered by the extremely harmful activity of... sitting on the couch and reading books...?
The house has tipped over the line from 'messy' to 'so messy even I'm grossed out' and I got no oomph to clean it. Housemate is in no state to contribute and their self-deprecation is getting a bit tired. Debt getting bigger. Have ruled out living at Mum's to save money to live as her house literally makes me sick.
My spare energy every day is siphoned into doing things for other people. My spare brain cycles are busy worrying for other people. My word count is at a dead standstill and my drawing is as bad as it's ever been. I wake up and my first thought is 'what bullshit has happened in the world when I was asleep?' It's been like that for about a month and a half now.
The one thing I've managed is going to the gym regularly, but despite lifting slightly heavier things than when I started, all it's notably achieved so far is giving me a stomach ulcer.
Yes, really.
So it's with immense irritation I write this post. I don't know what to do about this cornucopia of bad feeling. It's not like this is a particularly new situation, I guess I feel worse than usual because I'm reminded just how difficult, if not impossible, it is for me to escape my circumstances and my own goofy brain chemistry. The thought of me being in this situation for another year or so... it just sucks, man. Having to struggle just to squeeze some words of fiction out of my head sucks. Being constantly leaned on by people and listening to their troubles and having them totally derail my attempts to sort my own shit out because every time I try to tell them to give me a break winds up with ME feeling bad... it effing sucks!!!
The suckiest part is I have become totally dejected about the possibility of changing this situation. This has gone on for so long I find myself planning and thinking under assumption that I'll be thousands of dollars in debt and being the bellhop for peers and family for the rest of my life. So why bother taking twenty minutes out to write? my brain asks. Because I'm becoming an intolerable person that's why!!! Gawd. I'm going home to try not to throw the dirty dishes over the balcony, now.