*Let’s get this shitshow started* It’s been a while since I’ve posted. It’s been a while since I’ve even sat at my computer and written. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything remotely productive really.
There have been so many times in the past month to month and a half where I’ve opened up WordPress and wanted to write, where I tried to write. I even started a post in my drafts a week or two ago, and just wasn’t motivated to finish it. Although I haven’t really been motivated to do much of anything recently, it’s whatever.
I stopped going to work almost entirely. In the last month that I was working I think I went 5 days. I was sick at first and then I was just encapsulated by my bed. I’ve been sleeping day in and day out. The left side of my face is littered with blemishes due to it spending so much time with my pillow. I sleep so much yet the bags under my eyes are more prominent than ever. And if I wasn’t sleeping, I was moping and laying in bed, only emerging from my fortress to use the bathroom. Half the time I don’t know what day it is, despite it being displayed every time I tap the home button on my iPhone.
I’m not eating, drinking, exercising, I’m not doing anything. I’ve lost 8 pounds in the last month.
I’m depressed. I’m not sure why, but I am. Being at home makes me depressed. I have to be home for at least the next 4 months too. And to be completely and utterly honest with all of you, I don’t want to be depressed for the next 4 months.
It’s funny, at least I think it’s funny. I was sad and empty and depressed for years. It’s like I was trapped. I was hollow. It was as if every second of my life more of my insides were widdled away, until there was nothing left to hollow out.
Then I left my small Chicago suburb for San Diego and it was as if I had never been sad in my entire life. A weight, a forlorn weight, had been lifted off my shoulders and I was free. I was happy, I smiled. I smiled real smiles. I laughed real laughs. I was truly happy. I don’t smile at home. At least not real smiles. I plaster on the occasional fake smile every once in a while so people don’t think I’m as desolate as I really am. The only things I laugh at now are pointless vines my sister shows me. And I am definitely not happy. I have been home for only 3 months and in those 3 months all of my happiness has diminished and it was like I had never gone to California in the first place.
My hair is brown. I dyed it the other day. I thought that would make me at least a little happy. It didn’t.
I haven’t washed my hair since we dyed it and the only reason I showered then was because I had to rinse the excess dye out. The shirt I’m wearing is dirty. I only put it on today so it looked like I showered and put on clothes. It has a stain on it from the last time I wore it(tea I think) and it has a stain I got on it from eating some leftover pasta at my 10:00 dinner tonight. My face is clean. It’s only clean because I found a face mask and wanted to try it. The mask said to apply to clean skin.
One of my eyebrows is tweezed. The other, I lost any spur to do it, so I didn’t. I haven’t worn a bra in days and I live in sweatpants now.
I’m not sure what this post is about. I really don’t. I don’t want pity. I don’t know what I want. It’s sort of just a life update post, a pretty pathetic one at that.
It’s 1:30 in the morning right now so I’m feeling kinda emo, but I just want to feel things. I don’t want this hollow feeling coursing through my body every second of the day. I want to be able to feel. I want to feel joy, rage, repugnance, dismay hell even melancholy.I just want to feel something, anything. Because right now this hollow pit has encapsulated my entire being and is dragging me to places I don’t want to be dragged.
I just think I miss being happy, being able to feel. But until I get those abilities back, you can catch me laying in bed in week old sweatpants, unkempt hair, with my Shrek pillow pet.
Until next time