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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 stupid things that get to me

"You can drive yourself crazy, or you can get over it. The choice is yours."
--Stephen Holden


A couple of days ago I was reading up on some things Christoper Hitchens  had said about the woman he used to call "That Spencer girl" in the 90s(I don't know how I ended up doing that either) and some of the things he was saying about her being an immature airhead really started to get to me. Maybe it is the unfortunate combination of my mother getting sick of my sickness and what Back-up Psychiatrist said about how Major Depressive Disorder was white person's problem and that I was just doing all this for attention(he's even more stupid than that statement implies, but I needed a refill), but the things he said about her made me feel pretty bad about girls like me.

I do realise how fixating on my misery makes me seem like a teen-aged emo kid with no perspective, but have you ever tried to help another person when you can barely form a thought or get out of bed? This is the only problem that I've ever had that I couldn't just fix on my own. I used to be smart and independent and confident(ish), but now I can't get through the day without attention from friends who have better things to do than to keep checking up on my loopy behaviour. Perhaps smart and independent was never the real me, maybe I'm just becoming the flaky loser I was always going to be.

Or maybe I can't deal with this problem because it is the one problem directly related to all the things all the mes in my head would rather die than talk about.

I hate myself for not being over this already and snapping out of it the way everybody wants me to, I hate that nobody respects me any more and I really hate that this is who I am now.

"Do you ever worry that you're becoming the kind of person who isn't worth the fight?"

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