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“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

--T.S. Eliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

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The Awesome Power of Procrastination

*Trigger Warning: self-harm The power of procrastination is so awesome that even though I have been without Internet access for several hours and I have things that I think I want to do, I have spent that time lying on top of my bed thinking about how I would do all the things I want to do if I were to do them. Very productive. I think that the ideas I have are worth so much more in my head, I can fetishize every negative feeling and pretend that it makes me special or interesting in some way. But when the thoughts become words that I type out and read back, I realise how banal everything about me is. That's probably the real reason writing blog posts and writing in my journal gets a little harder every time. Here is a quick list of the things I should be doing right now: On Tuesday I had a very intense dream that was terrifying enough to make me feel slightly separate from my body all week. Even now, everything feels a little unreal and abnormal; I haven't stopped
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The Mad Girl: Day 16

I'm starting to think maybe I don't have a personality disorder...
"It's only about numbing the pain, forgetting, letting the world fade away for a while and making breathing a little more bearable again."


The acceptance hasn't been all good. The man, the relationship, the pain have all served as good distractions from the anger, hatred and jealousy that are(in effect) who I am. And now he's gone. The relationship is gone. The hate is starting to slosh around inside me again.
"I'm pissed off. All the time. So much I can't breath"
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Mostly it just feels like a magma-hot hand is squeezing my heart(stupid hand, nothing's going to come out of there). It physically hurts. I found a way to make it stop for a little while, so a few hours a day I can breathe. Sort of. I'm curious to see how long I can keep this up before the rage starts to destroy me and everyone around me.

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