Mild revelations...

What I thought was an uphill swing was in fact just a glance to the top of an even steeper, taller hill. Needless to say, what I anticipated was recovery from a stupid bout of depression was, in reality, the beginning of something much deeper and quite possibly to require clinical correction.

I'm depressed -- in a peckish, bi-polar kind of way. I'm generally in a good mood and happy, but it takes so very little to throw me back down into serious cases of "the blahs." A combination of debt, lack of accomplishment, and ne'er ceasing reminders of my poor choices and blunt failures are what keeps me at this all-time-low.

But I'm not writing for pity -- HELL, I'm more than aware no one reads this fucking thing, lol, it's therapy for myself. I just want to talk it out, maybe make some sense of it.

That's really half my problem: Not having a phone for this long is something I wasn't prepared to handle. Sure, I have e-mail and the internet, but that's not quite the same. I have no one to talk to. I've vented to my girlfriend, but there is only so much some people can take before it wears on them, too.

Even tonight, something so stupid set me off into a dismal spiral of self-hate. And it upset her. Which I couldn't stand... :'(

My lack of phone is entirely my fault, though. And I can't (and won't) ask for help because those I could ask have already helped me out far too much. I had the last few months handed to me on a silver platter and didn't do anything myself to try and fix the mess I got myself into. Now, having accumulated even more debt, I'm just that much more stressed about it.

Serious vent time:

Honestly, one of the big reasons I've been so miserable lately is because of the behavior of those around me. I get up every day with serious initiative to work, get things done, and make lots of progress on a variety of projects. If I'm alone here at the house, I get a TON done. And I feel good; gratified; pleased.

But when my girlfriend, though I love her to death, is here... it seems like nothing gets done. Even when I put my foot down and say, "this needs to get done," or "I'm going to work on this, find something else to do."

I know she's young, and impossibly cute and attractive, I can't fucking stand spending all my time focused on a person. I have so much to get done, and she claims to be in the same boat! So many projects to do, and she knows it, but instead spends every moment trying to be seductive and googly-eyed at me.

I like it, but it's cost us both so much time I'm really pissed off that I have to give her a metric fuckton of kisses before I can leave the fucking room to even grab a towel to clean a desk with, or crawl over a mountain of shit that was supposed to be cleaned to lay down and give her a hug before I can go use the restroom.

I know she means well, and only wants to make me happy, but I'm really, really fucking sick and tired of all the time that's being wasted on kissin' and lovin'. That's right, I said wasted.

There is a time and place for everything, and as much as I love her, when I'm trying to fucking get stuff done (especially FOR her) is NOT THE TIME TO DISTRACT ME EVERY MINUTE AND A HALF BEGGING FOR MORE KISSES, OR ANYTHING.

I admire her so much, but I get dragged down so badly when I'm the only one wishing to accomplish things and better myself.

I feel like I'm leaving some crucial part of explanation out, but right now that's fine. I had to let this go.

Discombobulation

Thrown into Chaos.

Well, at least that's how the saying goes.

From ancient Greece to the present, Chaos has played a key role in both mythology and the applied practice of everyday life.

Mine is no exception.

There is always a counterpoint, that some who find it pertinent enjoy adding, "There is order to Chaos;" but this, too, is irrelevantly unpredictable.

I have recently concluded that the only thing I can completely, comfortably, and undoubtedly rely on is the knowledge that I am often wrong, and don't have all the answers. Though I like to be, though I prey upon my own will to be omniscient, though I love the tingly bliss of the illusion of power out of knowledge... I know I am but a grain of sand with none of it.

Still, accepting this brings little peace. As deus ex machina, the internet plays little role in entertaining me furthermore. It's difficult to find joy in that which I normaly find fantastic, and the only thoughts that keep me going are self-preservation. To be quite frank, it's fucking sad.

If I could spare even a modicum of sanity before the week is out, I'd like to remind myself that I'm not alone and don't have to fight this uphill battle single-handedly. There are those who are willing to help, even if unable to.

Only time will tell how long I can outlive myself.

Hiatus.

I quit.