I know it's ridiculous, but I feel guilty of always whining here. Who the hell is gonna see it, first of all? That's the reason I started this thing in the first damn place, to say things that were on my mind somewhere that wouldn't hurt, bore, or annoy my friends. But I still feel bad about it, which is one reason I don't post nearly as much as I used to. There are only so many ways you can say "same shit, different day," after all.
As much as I feel bad about bitching, I'm going to do it, anyway. My hypocrisy knows no bounds, as it were.
I've been fretting over money and the future again. There's no need for me to go into detail or anything. It's just...I dunno. It gets harder and harder to make enough money to keep it together. Most months, I can't. And it's like, I know that to make more money, I have to work more, but when would I have time to work more? I already work my ass off constantly. And even if I *could* find and/or make more time to do more work, where am I gonna find reputable people who will pay me and not try to screw me out of every dime?
I had hoped that things would start looking up for me by now. Not necessarily that things would actually *be* better. Just that my perception of them would've changed with the onset of spring, but it hasn't happened yet. Which means all the stuff I chalked up to winter blues may be something more. Because I totally need more shit to worry about. *Eyeroll*
I find myself looking into the abyss again. I ran out of real reasons not to just step off into it a long time ago, so I've just been making shit up for the longest time. Every day, I get up, look into it, and lie to myself in order to put one foot in front of the other and make it through the day.
But it's getting harder and harder to come up with lies to tell myself. When I try to look ahead, all the future days of my life look no different from this one. Every time I think I've fallen as low as I can go, the bottom falls out from under me again, and I drop to yet another layer of hell.
Why can't I be like normal people? Why can't I just have a normal life with a normal job and live in a normal house and drive a normal car, etc., etc., etc.? It's easy to sit back and say, "Because I'm not normal," but let's be honest here. The one common denominator in all my failed endeavors...is me. What is so wrong with me that I can't do the things other people can?
Yes, I've been crazy all my life, but is that really the problem? I mean, other crazy people can do these things. I feel like I'm just...I dunno, defective in some way, I guess. Or maybe just defective in all ways. That's probably more like it.
It's not that I want to settle down and have a family. Oh, God, no. Please, anything but that. When God was handing out abilities, I clearly traded the nesting instinct for the ability to write badly. And I don't have a problem with that. But it would be nice to be able to live where I wanted, in the kind of place I wanted, and to have a job and finances that weren't always so precarious and a car I bought myself, rather than things that are always someone else's cast-offs. I just feel like my whole life's a house of cards, and the slightest breeze will just scatter the whole thing to the wind.
The worst part about it is that I'm so in over my head that I don't have the foggiest idea where to start on fixing it, or if it's even possible to fix it. So I just try desperately to tread water, which doesn't help and eventually just wears me out so that I sink farther and farther down.
I. Don't. Know. What. To. Do.
This is probably one of those times that I'd benefit from having a therapist. But having a therapist would require money, and having money requires working, and working requires me to somewhat be in my right mind, and somewhat being in my right mind would probably require me to...have a therapist.
Fuck. Do you see what I mean?
Vicious cycle. No escape. God, why do you hate me?
So every day, I'll just continue to look into the abyss and try to make up some sort of bullshit to get me through the day. Real hope is gone, so I'm clinging to false hope now. What happens when that runs out?
I don't know. I don't want to think about it.
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