(no subject)
This will be an emotional-type post, if you want to read it go ahead.
Have you ever had a moment where everything you hated about yourself, and everything you ever worried about or regretted just hit you in the face, and brought you so far down you felt like you were actually dying? I don't know if it's because Vanesa and I split up, or just because I'm stressed about school and money - but tonight at 3am as I stood at the washing machine doing my laundry and folding my clothes I was weak, I was sad and I was weak. I wanted to cry, I wanted to grab somebody and force them to feel exactly what I was feeling at that exact moment, so I could have somebody who understood.
I'm scared. I'm twenty-three, almost, and this is it for me. If I fuck this up, where am I gonna' go? Back to Dad's? There are so many things that are going through my mind, I can't concentrate.
I've let myself go, weight wise, to a point where I hate myself - I've always been a big guy, but I find the guy in the mirror grotesque. I don't think that people say, "Oh look at that huge fat guy, that's gross." but that's what I think. Everytime I pass a store window, or other randomly placed reflective surface, I wish I had worn a different shirt, or a jacket, or a fucking paper bag -- something that could have covered the form of my body better. I try to go to the gym, but I can't afford it. I try to run, or work out at home, but I just don't posess the constitution to stick with it. What's the point? That's what I ask myself...and that's why I never get anywhere.
College, I put forth so much effort to get here, and already I'm thinking of dropping out. And I know there are people out there like Joe Onimus that don't THINK I'm going to drop out, they KNOW it. They KNOW that Tanner doesn't follow through on things...and the shitty thing is that they're right...he doesn't.
My money situation is growing steadly worse - I had to ask my Mom for help paying my rent this month...only my second month, and already I'm relying on other people. I would have a job, except I threw away the one I had at Jimmy John's. I called in sick when I wasn't sick, and that was okay, but then I tried to do it again the next day...and they said if you can't come in we have to fire you. AND I DIDN'T GO. My fault, why the fuck did I do that? I knew that job was my bread and butter, and I just tossed it -- I sabotaged myself.
Vanesa and I split, and while she has her problems, it was my fault. I really did ignore her a lot, and she deserved better -- but instead of trying to give her more, I got mad about it and I took it out on her (no I don't mean physically). So that relationship is over because of me.
This company could be my saving grace -- it could fix all my problems. So why then don't I put more effort into it? Why did it take me three weeks to come up with a LOGO instead of just ONE THREE HOUR THINK TANK SESSION? Because that's all it would have taken. Why did I put of finalizing our licenses for so long?
On top of all that, my creativity has gone to hell. I can't write anymore, I can't draw anymore. I use to have such a relationship with art and poetry...and now, now I couldn't put together a five line dirty lymerick. I have to admit to the cop-out that I hate so much: I'm depressed. But does that mean I need medicine? Why can't I fix things on my own? I keep turning to alcohol more and more everyday - and I see something happening there that scares the shit out of me, but I have no other way to deal with anything. Those few hours of mind numbing stupidness, feel so good. But then like all true catch twenty-two's, it makes me feel even worse about myself the next day.
I'm so lacking in inspiration, any muse I had is dead or gone. I don't know if I have these issues because of an old girlfriend, or because my mom was never around, or cause my parents got divorced -- I don't know anything about psychology, or freudian meanings, all I know is I want this well of doubtfulness to go away.
Have you ever had a moment where everything you hated about yourself, and everything you ever worried about or regretted just hit you in the face, and brought you so far down you felt like you were actually dying? I don't know if it's because Vanesa and I split up, or just because I'm stressed about school and money - but tonight at 3am as I stood at the washing machine doing my laundry and folding my clothes I was weak, I was sad and I was weak. I wanted to cry, I wanted to grab somebody and force them to feel exactly what I was feeling at that exact moment, so I could have somebody who understood.
I'm scared. I'm twenty-three, almost, and this is it for me. If I fuck this up, where am I gonna' go? Back to Dad's? There are so many things that are going through my mind, I can't concentrate.
I've let myself go, weight wise, to a point where I hate myself - I've always been a big guy, but I find the guy in the mirror grotesque. I don't think that people say, "Oh look at that huge fat guy, that's gross." but that's what I think. Everytime I pass a store window, or other randomly placed reflective surface, I wish I had worn a different shirt, or a jacket, or a fucking paper bag -- something that could have covered the form of my body better. I try to go to the gym, but I can't afford it. I try to run, or work out at home, but I just don't posess the constitution to stick with it. What's the point? That's what I ask myself...and that's why I never get anywhere.
College, I put forth so much effort to get here, and already I'm thinking of dropping out. And I know there are people out there like Joe Onimus that don't THINK I'm going to drop out, they KNOW it. They KNOW that Tanner doesn't follow through on things...and the shitty thing is that they're right...he doesn't.
My money situation is growing steadly worse - I had to ask my Mom for help paying my rent this month...only my second month, and already I'm relying on other people. I would have a job, except I threw away the one I had at Jimmy John's. I called in sick when I wasn't sick, and that was okay, but then I tried to do it again the next day...and they said if you can't come in we have to fire you. AND I DIDN'T GO. My fault, why the fuck did I do that? I knew that job was my bread and butter, and I just tossed it -- I sabotaged myself.
Vanesa and I split, and while she has her problems, it was my fault. I really did ignore her a lot, and she deserved better -- but instead of trying to give her more, I got mad about it and I took it out on her (no I don't mean physically). So that relationship is over because of me.
This company could be my saving grace -- it could fix all my problems. So why then don't I put more effort into it? Why did it take me three weeks to come up with a LOGO instead of just ONE THREE HOUR THINK TANK SESSION? Because that's all it would have taken. Why did I put of finalizing our licenses for so long?
On top of all that, my creativity has gone to hell. I can't write anymore, I can't draw anymore. I use to have such a relationship with art and poetry...and now, now I couldn't put together a five line dirty lymerick. I have to admit to the cop-out that I hate so much: I'm depressed. But does that mean I need medicine? Why can't I fix things on my own? I keep turning to alcohol more and more everyday - and I see something happening there that scares the shit out of me, but I have no other way to deal with anything. Those few hours of mind numbing stupidness, feel so good. But then like all true catch twenty-two's, it makes me feel even worse about myself the next day.
I'm so lacking in inspiration, any muse I had is dead or gone. I don't know if I have these issues because of an old girlfriend, or because my mom was never around, or cause my parents got divorced -- I don't know anything about psychology, or freudian meanings, all I know is I want this well of doubtfulness to go away.