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erikaSo, as is usual, I forget to write in my journal when there's shit actually happening.
I read a monologue at a local event on Sunday. I was fairly out of it because hello, disassociation! But I have been told I did well. Whenever they put the video up, I'll link it here along with my personal reading's transcript.
Josh and I have no money in the bank. I separate this from being broke because there are graduations of poverty, okay? This particular graduation is kind of ridiculous, because we (probably) have enough food and all of our utility bills are paid (as far as I know!) but for example, I can't afford to buy my Klonopin (which I'm titrating off anyway) and I'm desperately hoping that the forty-three dollars my renters' insurance wants is just a suggestion even though it was due two weeks ago.
(This is not a request for money; this entry is me merely trying to start catching people up.)
In a frustratingly ironic way, thinking about how I can't buy my anti-anxiety medication only makes me more anxious, much in the same way that contemplating one's relationship with anything generally brings to mind more problems——food, parents, significant other(s), mental health, physical health, time spent on computer—if none of the things I just named are something you've worried seriously about in the last week, I'm not sure why you are reading this journal except for a glimpse at how anxious people work and how funny it is!
HAHA IT'S HILARIOUS BECAUSE THE WORLD IS ENDING EXCEPT IT WILL.
As I explained to a friend regarding an entirely different situation which is not related to being broke except that it is also part of my life: half of me thinks this will go well, 45% of me thinks this may go well but has the potential to explode in my face, and 5% of me expects that I will spontaneously combust tomorrow but that's pretty much always there.
There's a lot more to talk about but I have no fucking clue what to start with—look, I'm just going to delete all the SKY IS FALLING morass of shit. Whatever, you know? It'll be over or it won't and I'll have to deal with it, and maybe then I'll tune back in. Right now I'm alone and I'm sad and it's my own fault.
Today is my last therapy appointment with this therapist. He's been a tremendous help and I'm going to miss him like crazy.
I read a monologue at a local event on Sunday. I was fairly out of it because hello, disassociation! But I have been told I did well. Whenever they put the video up, I'll link it here along with my personal reading's transcript.
Josh and I have no money in the bank. I separate this from being broke because there are graduations of poverty, okay? This particular graduation is kind of ridiculous, because we (probably) have enough food and all of our utility bills are paid (as far as I know!) but for example, I can't afford to buy my Klonopin (which I'm titrating off anyway) and I'm desperately hoping that the forty-three dollars my renters' insurance wants is just a suggestion even though it was due two weeks ago.
(This is not a request for money; this entry is me merely trying to start catching people up.)
In a frustratingly ironic way, thinking about how I can't buy my anti-anxiety medication only makes me more anxious, much in the same way that contemplating one's relationship with anything generally brings to mind more problems——food, parents, significant other(s), mental health, physical health, time spent on computer—if none of the things I just named are something you've worried seriously about in the last week, I'm not sure why you are reading this journal except for a glimpse at how anxious people work and how funny it is!
HAHA IT'S HILARIOUS BECAUSE THE WORLD IS ENDING EXCEPT IT WILL.
As I explained to a friend regarding an entirely different situation which is not related to being broke except that it is also part of my life: half of me thinks this will go well, 45% of me thinks this may go well but has the potential to explode in my face, and 5% of me expects that I will spontaneously combust tomorrow but that's pretty much always there.
There's a lot more to talk about but I have no fucking clue what to start with—look, I'm just going to delete all the SKY IS FALLING morass of shit. Whatever, you know? It'll be over or it won't and I'll have to deal with it, and maybe then I'll tune back in. Right now I'm alone and I'm sad and it's my own fault.
Today is my last therapy appointment with this therapist. He's been a tremendous help and I'm going to miss him like crazy.
