15 min before I have to wake up to go take my fucking exam. Lol. I’ve been up for at least an hour, absolutely wracked with anxiety. I’m not even too worried about the exam itself, I trust my brain on that front, but I think it’s anxiety about just having to go do it that’s firing up all my other anxieties. I can’t stop imagining terrible, painful scenarios, fucking torturing myself. I can’t shut up the voice in my head that just keeps saying, in a variety of horrible ways, you’re going to get replaced. It’s just a matter of time. Yesterday I felt pretty at peace with the current status of my life, and now I feel like… Bad. I’m exhausted, I barely slept, why do I have to feel like this? Why do I have to tear myself up inside? Destroy myself with thoughts. Well, it’s time to get up! Time to go take an exam that’s worth a big chunk of my grade! Awesome.
Today is my five year wordpress anniversary. That seems bizarre and impossible, but also sort of not. It’s almost 3am. It smells like rain. I’m working on a paper. I only need to have like 3 pages of it done, and then I can sleep, and finish the other 3-4 pages tomorrow, before 6:40 in the evening, when I have to get ready for a tour. It’s honestly crazy how overwhelmed I can feel sometimes. Like… just… about everything. About the state of everyone I love. About words that I have to put down on a page and words I have to speak out loud to strangers, again. About what’s happening on someone else’s little fucking pocket rectangle. About water, roaches, food, teeth, skin, doctors, the animals in my care, parking, neighbors, clothing, communication, credit cards, electricity, internet, rent, contracts, home repair, cool air, hair, the unstoppable and horrifying march of time, music, gas, car maintenance, fear.
This is a weird list and I don’t know. But I do know that I feel overwhelmed and honestly, pretty lost. Trying to push forward, to do the things I know I need to do, to the best of my abilities, and trying to do right by myself, whatever that means. Trust, as best as I can, my heart and my guts, and let everything else fall away or fall into place. I don’t know. I don’t even know what i’m saying lol. What the fuck do I know? Nothing, that’s what.
I know it’s late, and I’m fucking tired, and in an ideal world I would be asleep in 45 minutes. But this is not that type of world, sadly, and it’s likely that the only way I could make that happen would be to not even get close on my paper length goal here. That’s really not acceptable, so yeah. I guess I’m going to just be awake as long as it takes.
Maybe I should make a playlist, like I used to do back in some old times. It was nice and good and I liked it, and maybe I should bring it back. I’m thinking about it mostly because I’m hearing and thumbing some new music. Also, because maybe it will make me feel a way that I would like to feel? ((lol… how exactly would I even like to feel?))
OooooooooooOOoooooookay. With the help of a couple ideas and a fairly long direct quote, I officially made it past my 3 page goal. Sooooooo yeah. I think it would be in my best interest to let myself go to sleep now, and grab as much sleep as I can manage to get. Hopefully my brain will be cool, and not make that way harder than it should be. Peace.
I feel gripped by a sick anxiety. About all of the work I have to do, about what I’m doing with my life in general, about my body, my family, my personal life. A twisting fear about somehow losing the things that are currently going well, and feeling right. Ugh. Maybe I would feel better if I wasn’t procrastinating at 1am. but. there you have it. I’m changed, changing, really a lot. It’s everything. It’s how I carry myself, how people speak to me. I can’t lull myself to sleep with the little submissive fantasies I’ve used for years, to feel calm and safe and drift off. It rubs me all the wrong ways, no longer soothing in the least. Interesting but I suppose not surprising. Maybe I should also have a semi-private journal for thoughts about this budding (growing, thriving) new business, instead of VagueBlogging(tm) about it here, but we’ll see. We’ll see. We’ll see. We talk late into the night, drunk and honest with it, about having a family, and what that would be like. We walk through hypotheticals and agree, again and again, that we could probably be good at it, if we worked as a team, if we really wanted to make it happen. I like thinking about it but it also scares me a bit. A sick anxiety. Maybe I’ll feel better when the next couple weeks pass. Maybe. Hanukkah is next week already, which is toooo soooooon honestly. But I’ll have a bit of time, after the next couple weeks, or at least I should. A small break, to do more freelance stuff, and hopefully have more time to devote to my pressing interests. But that’s future time, and who knows what the hell. (not me, obviously) And now is now and I’ve really gotta fucking work. bye.
I’m suddenly feeling super overwhelmed again. I was feeling chill for a couple days but now I’m dying lmao. tight. tight. I just finished my homework assignment that’s due in 2 hours, and turned it in. I feel kinda sick, anxiety styles. I have tomorrow night off, but then I work for the next 5 fucking nights. That…… really sucks yo. It’s too fucking much. It’s honestly, seriously, too fucking much. I feel overwhelmed, and like I’m not a good enough ghost guide, and I need a ton of practice, and maybe really I’ll never be good enough, and maybe I don’t even really want to do this??? like… why am I even doing this?? It’s stressing me the fuck out?? And I reeeeallllyyy don’t wanna work for 5 nights straight. Also I have a 1,500 word essay about some shit I 100% haven’t read due on Friday, and 3 discussion board discussions from one class due Sunday, and a 400+ word discussion from another class due Sunday, and two assignments form my 4th class due Monday. … And I work Thurs, fri, sat, sun, and mon night. At least two of those nights are for sure *my* tours, and fucking two more of them might turn out to be, because one of the other guides just got fired, which I think was a fucking stupid ass move, because this is literally going to be the busiest month of the year, and they hired me so they could have an **extra** person, but now they’re basically back to square one except now they have someone suuuuuper inexperienced (me) Instead of someone with over a year of experience. Cool. Awesome. Awesome. Cool. Fuck. I need to practice my intro yo. I need to practice everything. I should probably stay up all night and get my homework done, right??? That would be the smart move, because I seriously fucking need **one** full day off, where I don’t have to do anything and I can maybe hopefully de-stress myself, or like… I dunno. Shit’s guna be unfortunate. It already feels unfortunate. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing lmao. I should do more work now. peace.
Preparing an offering of insufficient worth, for tomorrow when I have to show my hands all empty of coin or credit. A token and an unbelievably silly feeling one at that, but oh well I suppose. It is what it is, and I’ll have to bare empty hands either way, so I might as well. I might as well. I might as well. At least no one had to pay a ton of money to fix my car. That’s good. That’s important and also good. I’m holding that in my mind as a positive as I prepare to lay out my case. And I have all manner of strange tabs open here. This one and a dauntingly long list of work from home opportunities, and two tabs about how to take scientific surveys of fish populations, and copy block procedures in PDF form. I have more and more still open in my mind. Trying to relegate some to separate windows so I don’t have to see them see them see them see them so much so all the time. This coarse ground stone ground coffee has proved my doubts incorrect, as evidenced by my greyhound dashing heart and even somewhat slipstream mind. Good, because I need speed. I need speedy thoughts, but I can feel it rushing my anxiety as well, pushing it all suddenly urgent against my chest. As far as prices go that is one I’ll gladly pay, because such chest pains sit lightly upon me, born lighter and lighter with long practice. Feeling slow and feeling sleepy is at this time unacceptable. I’ve promises and miles and you know. you probably know.
Talk about using my writing for evil. Talk about feeling soul sick about it. I’m writing some shit about dodging taxes by setting up offshore business shit. Honestly, I accepted the assignment without even knowing what they wanted me to write, just because I needed the work. But now I feel pretty dirty and gross about it. Honestly, I would probably have been like “just kidding, I can’t write this” except it’s a pretty new client and I’m trying to build up a good relationship with them. Last week: articles about gardening and garden pests. This week: fucking tax dodging grossness. Like… okay… I wonder if my parents would be willing to bankroll me for a couple months if I used those months to write the stupid fucking novel that they are always bugging me to write. Like… I’m so fucking cynical I guess, compared to them. I like to think of it as more realistic really, but whatever. Like… between my whole family combined, we’ve come up with a lot of fucking cool creative shit, and nothing has ever really come from any of it. No real money, no real success. But still, when I talk to my mom about money, about what I should do with my life, most of her ideas are outlandish creative stuff. Write a novel, start a pie making company… like… what?? I love her optimism and stuff, honestly, but idk. It just seems… so unrealistic. idk. I need something reliable. I’m stressing myself to death. Seriously, it’s not cool and not good how much I’m stressing about everything. I need to chill the hell out. I need to figure out what I should do and fucking do it. I can’t go around with this huge anxiety knot in my stomach every fucking second, choking me, strangling me, boiling up and up and up. Tomorrow is the primary for my state, I already voted a few days ago, and then spent my Saturday morning at a totally bizarre delegate voting meeting, where I almost *became* a fucking delegate for my precinct, but then someone who actually wanted to do it showed up, so I didn’t have to, which was cool. yeah. I drank way too much this weekend, allowed myself to drink last night because of how stressed and anxious I was feeling. A couple hours of peace, at a high price. Saturday night was the nicest, I felt relatively free and had quite a bit of fun with my S.O. yeah. I dunno. I dunno what this post is about, and I dunno. I think now is a good time for me to go.
I feel like i’m losing my fucking mind. 1,000 more lines before I can sleep. I feel sick with anxiety and it feels unraveled inside of me. gentle quick typing, barely lift the fingers but get the words out just fine. My dreams have been stress laced and strange. Dang, I hope I eventually get to sleep. I officially have a ticket to see Atreyu next week. (assuming nothing catastrophic happens between now and then. I’m really fucking paranoid okay? *knocks on wood*) Paying homage to my emo teenage self. Planning on going solo, which actually sounds nice and fun. No need to worry if anyone else is having a good time or whatever. Just me and me and me. I wonder if I still have a ratty old pair of skater shoes around here somewhere, to complete the emo kid ensemble I’m planning on rocking. Anyway, those are thoughts for a long time from now. For now I need to turn my thoughts to lines and links and getting my fucking work done. Have I mentioned I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind?? Because I really do. I feel so fucking freaked out about everything… and like… just a couple inches away from fucking panic. I’m trying to BREATHE and take shit easy, but it’s mad hard kid. It’s mad hard son. Please, just let me get through this work and at least get a few hours sleep. **insert general fear and agony here**