Things aren’t so bad right now.
I am saving just as much as I am spending, and my finances had been a major problem. I believe either a raise or promotion could be coming my way, and I am about to start a second job.
I will see my love again in a week, and we have a hotel room booked for two nights.
My father gets out of rehab today and this could be problematic, but I hope it isn’t my problem.
I haven’t been writing my friends like I wanted to, but I am making more of an effort to see them.
Yesterday, I picked up my tax forms from my previous employer and didn’t have to see any of the toxic people with whom I had to work! I haven’t received the other two I need, but I should soon.
I think I am going to treat myself. It has been a while since I have made any impulse purchases, and I have been eager to own a scrying mirror.
:D ~ :) ~ ;P
I have discovered that I feel much more than I thought I did. I feel more emotions than I realize and I feel them often enough for it to affect me externally. Internally, all I can feel is a dangerous amount of pressure.
I am always conflicted, but now with so many problems that I am not sure if I can confront any. I made the decision to avoid all my issues, but I have also subconsciously avoided a lot of my responsibilities. I told myself I was fine, that if I kept moving forward all my worries would lag behind, but now I am so weighed down by my new problems that my old ones have caught up. Now I am surrounded. I don’t know where to start, but I hope I find a way out soon.
Whenever I concentrate on a problem I find myself digging through each negative detail, which results in uncontrollable crying and avoidance. I have not had any alone time as of late and despite all attempts to halt my tears while in public or at work, I have failed. Maybe it will help if I categorize my problems and take the time to work them out as groups rather than individually.
Every single segment of my life is currently either damaged or doomed. My life at home is nearly nonexistent; the house I rent is not my home and the one that was once my home is falling apart. My family had once been a group of strangers coexisting within the same walls, and now things are even worse. My job is a miserable waste of time, but I have to make money somehow. My love is shared with a man I never get to see, and even though we refuse to give up on one another, I cannot help but think that all this effort may be hopeless.
Here I am, surrounded by all these obstacles with no idea of where to begin. I need to be more responsible. I need a home. I need to strengthen my relationships. I need to work towards developing a career rather than keeping a job. I need to do something other than simply existing.
My responsibilities deserve more attention than I have been able to afford. I had three cats, and one died two days ago after I tried to nurse her back to health rather than rushing her to the vet where she may or may not have been saved. I am trying to forgive myself, but I cannot help but feel overwhelmed with guilt. The condition of my house is awful. It is falling apart and I avoid bringing it up with my landlady because I am regularly late with my rent.
As for finding a home, I doubt I ever will. I do not feel at home within city limits. I would much prefer living in a more rural area with limited technology. Though such a lifestyle sounds less expensive, I am still not financially stable enough to move.
I have lost touch with all of my friends and have never been close to my family. I have always found solace in being alone, but I seem to never have alone time. Even in this moment, I am ignoring phone calls and messages in an attempt to get through this journal I have assigned to myself. All of my friends are disappointed with how difficult it is to get in touch with me, when I am avoiding all contact with anyone other than my lover.
I work full-time making shakes with liquid nitrogen at a burger joint. It is usually a really fun environment, but I am guilty of letting my depression tag along when I have work. Sometimes I forget I exist when we get really busy, even though my body is often being pushed beyond its capabilities. I like forgetting I exist.
Still, I do exist. I could end my life now, most easily with a .22 bullet aimed at my face, but I think I am going to tough it out. I need to build up my strengths and make some decisions.
Though I hate the thought of being a slave to paper, my biggest obstacle is undoubtedly money. I have intentions to move and to take gemology courses, but the accumulated cost to do both comfortably is about $8,000. Until I can save that amount, I plan to continue writing as long as I can find the time to do so. I hope to write even more once I feel at home.
Until then, my friends, my writing is yours to keep. I will be in touch.
www.zetrocnitsirk.tumblr.com will now be used only for personal posts.
DISCLAIMER: I am depressed and currently dealing with an existential crisis.
I reconnected with a boy I met in middle school through Facebook. I was 17, I think he was 19. My friend, David, and I drove to Slidell to pick him up. His neighborhood seemed pretty abandoned, I guess it was still being affected by Hurricane Katrina. He looked about the same other than having a few scattered tattoos.
I am not sure where David went after the drive back, but my new, old friend and I drove to an abandoned chemical factory in Jefferson. We parked near a storage unit building and walked a couple miles of train tracks to get there. We wandered through every part of the building at least twice and climbed to it’s roof three or four times. Each of us carried one of my Marine-issued Benchmade survival knives.
Before leaving, we sat on the bare beams of the southernmost part of the building which had already collapsed. We talked constantly, but I don’t remember anything more than the scar on his chest. He showed me the keloided “JR” high on his left breast. He told me he and his dad did the same with a knife. I was impressed and I gave him one of the knives. The only other time I have communicated with him since was when he told me he sharpened that knife.
I had been doing it since adolescence after discovering its comfort by putting my feet on the toilet rim and squatting over the bowl of a toilet. I did it for most of my life and I stopped when I moved into my house last August, due to my toilet not being properly secured to the floor. This past year I have suffered from hemorrhoids twice and I blame it on not being able to squat-poop. I am ordering a Squatty Potty to accommodate my dilapidated lavatory.
Girl is dead, we assume she was hit by a car.
I have been working for 18 days straight, I get a day off in 5 days.
I don’t know where my Grandma could be, I have not seen her in days.