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Looking through these old journal entries is mildly embarrassing. I suppose there's no point in attempting to maintain a journal, really. I don't know why I keep trying. Well, I suppose I haven't tried in a while. It's not like anyone reads this s**t anyway. Can't blame them, really.
Mid October and the seasonal affective disorder is kicking in. Sometimes the medicine works. Sometimes it doesn't. I was thinking it was working when I increased the dose, since I've actually been able to enjoy myself somewhat these last few days, except now I feel like crap again. I learned that hope only made it hurt more years ago, but I always end up hoping anyway. Ugh. There's just always that optimist I used to be lurking around the corner. It's still there, insisting that it'll get better eventually if I just keep trying my hardest, even when I know better. I've known better for seven years and it still won't shut up, and I feel so stupid.
In other news, let me just say I am so glad I am not a teenager anymore. Ugh. I was sick of teenagers when I was 18... except that people still patronize me. (People younger than me patronize me, even.) I suppose that's to be expected, as a young adult, but I was sick of that s**t when I was eight. And it doesn't even ******** matter how I act. I could be putting on the ditsy facade because I don't feel like dealing with people, or I could actually stop dumbing everything down* and converse on the same level that I think, but it makes no difference. Aww, how cute! She thinks she's older than [******** twelve. It's almost always coming from guys, too... often guys that are hitting on me. That's ******** creepy. Why are you hitting on someone you apparently think possesses about half your intellect?
Ugh, I seriously feel like crap. I don't know, maybe it's just PMS. I hope so. I don't talk about it unless pressed, but I'm still so terrified that I'll never be able to function, ever. And I keep planning, I keep trying to work around it, I keep trying to find realistic ways to cope and still be productive... and I do it more for my parents' sake, really, but it just ends up making it hurt more for me, because part of me is pretty sure it doesn't matter. And again with the ******** tears. Goddamn it.
*I have to do this all the time or I apparently sound like I'm trying to be pretentious. No, seriously, whenever I slip up, that's what I'm accused of, but in smaller words. My god, people piss me off. I can only force amusement so much.
I don't want to talk to anyone I haven't already internally established as worth talking to. I don't want to go to class. I don't want to lie awake in bed for five ******** hours. I don't want to sift through pages of shitty fanfic to find something decent. I'm having trouble enjoying food. I don't even want to play video games. What I really want to do is just stop but that's not an option.
 Ookami Aya · Mon Oct 17, 2011 @ 11:07am · 0 Comments |
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