Some shit that I'm thinking that I decided to write down. As usual.

It's too fucking hard to think. I get up KNOWING I need to work on my homework (which, for the first week, is ridiculously simple), but I don't want to do anything. I want to hide in bed and pretend none of it exists. I can't do this. I mean, I CAN do the schoolwork, what I can't do is blow it off and fuck up my very decent GPA because I'm a fragile minded little asshole. I've been away from it too long. I thought taking a week off from work would help me ease back in to school, but it just gives me an excuse to sleep through the time I'm supposed to be doing my schoolwork. Maybe I should have gone with in-person classes this time. I dunno. I'm going to force myself to stay up after the kids go to school tomorrow morning, go for a walk and get my brain working. My brain wants to dwell on stupid stuff I have no control over instead of focusing on what is SUPPOSED to be important to me. I have no willpower. I feel lost. Blah blah blah, don't you think I know how pathetic and self-centered I sound? Fuck off, I'll figure it out. Hopefully.

Ordinary Do-Nothings

I can't seem to start today. I haven't strayed too far from bed. I got a Bukowski poem book for my birthday and now I'm buried in that, then I lie around. I had terrible and strange dreams last night and this morning. I'm still colored by those a little, I guess. It's hard to take ordinary life seriously. I have classes that started online yesterday that I haven't done anything for. I can't function today. Yesterday was good. Like a muted good. My family was here celebrating my birthday. I was so tired, but everything was still nice. I've got time off work now, so it's too easy to just space out and not do anything. I just want to lie around and live in my head.

Just woke up

I'm totally wasting valuable time sitting around in bed, propped up on my elbows, Facebooking until my pinkies go numb. It's after noon. Kids are in school. Charlie's at work. I got the kids on the bus this morning, ate a donut and went back to bed. I'm a lazy turd.

I start classes Monday. I took a huge break from school, but now it's time to pick back up with it. Or else my family will assume I've given up (not that I haven't thought about doing that), in which case they will pester the fuck out of me.

I really have nothing more to say.

Melancholia

Paired with intoxication and piano, melancholia can be both beautiful and horrible at the same goddamn time. Tell me how that's even fucking possible.

Possibly the rum is disguising the shit I'm feeling as art? Probably.

FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK.

I'm awake when I shouldn't be. I have to take the kids to the dentist in the morning and then work in the evening. It's 3:30am. All I'm doing is reading news articles, taking online quizzes to see what mental disorder I might have (tonight it's BPD), listening to sad piano music and feeling mopey. I'm afraid of having another of those Supernightmares tonight. It wasn't horror movie terrifying. It played off my emotions. I was a disaster this morning. I ached in my chest. My heart had taken a beating (no pun intended) all fucking night.

I feel stupid and fragile. I'd like to just not give a fuck. I'd like to sleep soundly and wake up normal. I want the dreams back that used to play out happy fantasies.

On another note, I found out this evening that my grandpa is dying. Probably quite soon. I haven't seen him in something like 12 years. It makes me feel shitty.

Nightmare

I'm lying in bed, fresh from sleep, already feeling low. My dreams from last night and this morning all seemed to play out my worst fears. Not death or spiders or clowns. None of these compare to rejection. Humiliation. Loneliness. Why does my brain have to be so terribly cruel? It's a sick joke, to do this to me when it knows how much I look forward to the relief of sleep, where I can dream and temporary let go of all this crippling insecurity.

I'm not even going to post these dreams, because hell, they're much too embarrassing. The problem is, now that I'm awake, my mind is trying to convince me that the underlying theme of the nightmares are true for my waking life. All along, it's been telling me that no one really cares about me and I've been trying so hard to ignore it. But to have an entire dream, what feels like the equivalent of a three hour long movie, dedicated to showing me that I'm worthless, and that the people I care about don't give a shit about me or my stupid little feelings (it gave many examples, worst case scenario of this)... it's hard not to give my asshole brain the benefit of the doubt.

I'm groggy and torn apart when I'm supposed to be fresh and ready for a new day.

Fuck. Me.

Happy time. Instance #1.

It was late evening, winter, so all was dark. 1993 probably. Richland, WA. I was with Mandy, Leah, and (I think) Colleen. We were at the Uptown Mall, which was a strip mall, and we were all slowly trickling out of an antique store. I was first out, sitting on the curb out front in the cold, waiting for the others to make their purchases. I wore a long black puffy coat (no, not for stealing anything). My pockets were filled with CDs for my Discman. I was always wearing headphones. It was also shortly after I started smoking cigarettes, and I had a Camel Wide dangling "sexily" from my awkward mouth. I felt amazingly cool.

In those days, for reasons I have long since forgotten, I wanted to be called Robin, although I was instead dubbed "Roy," which has stuck with me to this day. We were all young and ready to reinvent ourselves, and then the next week we would re-reinvent ourselves. Because we still could.

We were waiting for one of our mothers (not mine) to come pick us all up and cart us to one of our houses (also not mine) where we would babble to each other and listen to records. None of us drove yet, as were all Freshmen in high school. Sitting on that curb, smoking, waiting for my favorite people in the world to join me, after sifting through vintage toys, books, and records and deciding not be buy anything (because I probably had no money)...I felt perfect. It was one of those rare moments in my life where I felt no worry, just love and contentment. All was right. I was with the few people in the world who understood me.

And I'm pretty sure I had an entire boxed set of Journey CDs stuffed in my coat.