3am.
Watched Biggest Loser and promptly ate a Skinny Cow ice cream cone. Back to mindless dribble tv. Then another cone. And another. A bowl of Doritos And back to the ice cream cones. Now my stomach feels sick and I know I must set a new rule - No more buying these cones. I will have to put myself on restriction. I can not be trusted. This cycle is familiar. Gross. Stupid. Self-defeating. I know it well, and I know better.
My sleep cycle is off, as per usual. With no place to be, no responsibilities, no work, no appointments, time barely exists. There's no need to wake up. There's no need to go to sleep. Chaos.
I want to keep writing, but I am tired.
Fatigue surrounds me like a blanket. Day and night.
I can't seem to escape it.
I've been "working" on learning about entrepreneurial endeavors. I've been "working" to try to stay inspired, and believe on some level that I CAN create something, and that it MIGHT be possible? I've been on a good stretch the past few days. Very good! I was encouraged and motivated and hopeful.
Today, not so much.
Today, my stomach feels awful. And gross. And I want to throw up. My body feels dirty. And everything around seems gross. The clutter. The noise of the TV. The skuzzy bathroom sink that won't drain. The gross bathroom tiles that are precariously hanging by the grout. The blackness on the edges that I am too tired to scrub. Or acknowledge. Or think about.
Goal for the new year is human contact. Being so alone, so often, (not counting my buddy) can not be good for us. It can not be healthy. A couple weeks ago my friend was in town and we had dinner in the the city. I was so nervous. I haven't seen him since I was 19 when he was an exchange student from Europe for a year. I was so nervous I didn't want to see him.
But I did.
I did, but I didn't.
I wanted to see him, but I didn't want him to see me because I am so fat and so ashamed and so unemployed and listless.
And lost.
I don't want anyone to see me so lost. And worthless.
I know one thing is for sure, once i DO get myself together, and am working/or self-employed, I will never, EVER forget what it is like to be in this situation. I will not forget the doubt and fear and depression that grows from not having a job, something to do, a purpose. I didn't fully understand it. I minimized the impact. I saw the emotional piece as over exaggerated. But now I get it, and i sure hope that some day I'll be in a position to help folks who are struggling the way i am struggling now.
We have to help each other.
We have to hold each others hands.
We have to love each other back to health.
And yes, I'm speaking for myself. I could sure use some help! Anybody! Help!
Note to self: Another goal for this year: learning how to ask for help. Reaching out. Communicating. Like, in a real life, real human sort of way. Not mysteriously, anonymously through veils of social media, or worse, in my head!
I need to PICK UP A PHONE perhaps?
God, just writing that makes me immediately rebut - "So unrealistic. I'm not gonna really do that?!"
Ok. So, maybe I'll start with emails, and work my way up to coffee dates.
But, seeing my friend energized me, and awakened me, and filled me with excitement and life! It was mesmerizing and incredible and i loved it and treasured it and didn't want it to stop. It was like I was a real person. Normal again. And living. And happy. And confidant. And a person who was worthwhile.
And then I came home and it was gone.
I was thinking about getting a calendar. To most people, that would be normal. To me, i've had no need. But, now I think i might like to have an organized location to track my thoughts, and goals. A home to keep stay rooted in time and space. Something to remind me that I am alive and that I can in fact think constructively and definitely about things i want to do each week:
a) Identify 20 mentors/folks I look up/that I would like to emulate
b) Write emails/ask for coffee dates?
c) Check out 20 books (small biz/online projects)
d) Laundry (that hasn't been done in over a month)
e) Treadmill
f) Maybe 10 ideas a day? But I don't know. This scares me - putting all the things I could be, but am not doing in black and white.
Even something as ridiculous as a shower, yes, a shower - I think I need to write down and schedule, because yes, it has gotten THAT bad. And for my buddy, worse. Our collective hygiene is beyond what you could imagine. Abysmal. Homeless person level. Horrible. And embarrassing. And crazy. His reason: his shoulder pain. And his general pain. And, I think, depression? My reason? I don't know - who cares.
Who cares.
Well, I wrote more than I thought I could. I'm happy for that. If only I could keep it up. That would be great.
We'll see.
I know better than to make any promises. Wouldn't want more ammunition to feel like a failure.
So, we'll see.
Watched Biggest Loser and promptly ate a Skinny Cow ice cream cone. Back to mindless dribble tv. Then another cone. And another. A bowl of Doritos And back to the ice cream cones. Now my stomach feels sick and I know I must set a new rule - No more buying these cones. I will have to put myself on restriction. I can not be trusted. This cycle is familiar. Gross. Stupid. Self-defeating. I know it well, and I know better.
My sleep cycle is off, as per usual. With no place to be, no responsibilities, no work, no appointments, time barely exists. There's no need to wake up. There's no need to go to sleep. Chaos.
.JPG) |
| Dirty Laundry (Pile 1 of 2) |
Fatigue surrounds me like a blanket. Day and night.
I can't seem to escape it.
I've been "working" on learning about entrepreneurial endeavors. I've been "working" to try to stay inspired, and believe on some level that I CAN create something, and that it MIGHT be possible? I've been on a good stretch the past few days. Very good! I was encouraged and motivated and hopeful.
Today, not so much.
Today, my stomach feels awful. And gross. And I want to throw up. My body feels dirty. And everything around seems gross. The clutter. The noise of the TV. The skuzzy bathroom sink that won't drain. The gross bathroom tiles that are precariously hanging by the grout. The blackness on the edges that I am too tired to scrub. Or acknowledge. Or think about.
Goal for the new year is human contact. Being so alone, so often, (not counting my buddy) can not be good for us. It can not be healthy. A couple weeks ago my friend was in town and we had dinner in the the city. I was so nervous. I haven't seen him since I was 19 when he was an exchange student from Europe for a year. I was so nervous I didn't want to see him.
But I did.
I did, but I didn't.
I wanted to see him, but I didn't want him to see me because I am so fat and so ashamed and so unemployed and listless.
And lost.
I don't want anyone to see me so lost. And worthless.
I know one thing is for sure, once i DO get myself together, and am working/or self-employed, I will never, EVER forget what it is like to be in this situation. I will not forget the doubt and fear and depression that grows from not having a job, something to do, a purpose. I didn't fully understand it. I minimized the impact. I saw the emotional piece as over exaggerated. But now I get it, and i sure hope that some day I'll be in a position to help folks who are struggling the way i am struggling now.
We have to help each other.
We have to hold each others hands.
We have to love each other back to health.
And yes, I'm speaking for myself. I could sure use some help! Anybody! Help!
Note to self: Another goal for this year: learning how to ask for help. Reaching out. Communicating. Like, in a real life, real human sort of way. Not mysteriously, anonymously through veils of social media, or worse, in my head!
I need to PICK UP A PHONE perhaps?
God, just writing that makes me immediately rebut - "So unrealistic. I'm not gonna really do that?!"
Ok. So, maybe I'll start with emails, and work my way up to coffee dates.
But, seeing my friend energized me, and awakened me, and filled me with excitement and life! It was mesmerizing and incredible and i loved it and treasured it and didn't want it to stop. It was like I was a real person. Normal again. And living. And happy. And confidant. And a person who was worthwhile.
.JPG) |
| A hair away from Hoarders. |
And then I came home and it was gone.
I was thinking about getting a calendar. To most people, that would be normal. To me, i've had no need. But, now I think i might like to have an organized location to track my thoughts, and goals. A home to keep stay rooted in time and space. Something to remind me that I am alive and that I can in fact think constructively and definitely about things i want to do each week:
a) Identify 20 mentors/folks I look up/that I would like to emulate
b) Write emails/ask for coffee dates?
c) Check out 20 books (small biz/online projects)
d) Laundry (that hasn't been done in over a month)
e) Treadmill
f) Maybe 10 ideas a day? But I don't know. This scares me - putting all the things I could be, but am not doing in black and white.
Even something as ridiculous as a shower, yes, a shower - I think I need to write down and schedule, because yes, it has gotten THAT bad. And for my buddy, worse. Our collective hygiene is beyond what you could imagine. Abysmal. Homeless person level. Horrible. And embarrassing. And crazy. His reason: his shoulder pain. And his general pain. And, I think, depression? My reason? I don't know - who cares.
Who cares.
Well, I wrote more than I thought I could. I'm happy for that. If only I could keep it up. That would be great.
We'll see.
I know better than to make any promises. Wouldn't want more ammunition to feel like a failure.
So, we'll see.
No comments:
Post a Comment