I can’t seem to get my shit together. I mean, I’ve got a lot of my shit together but I can’t seem to get over these bumps called “creative outlets” and “socializing.”
I can’t seem to keep up with a feminism blog or a movie blog, even though those are both things I care a lot about. I can’t seem to get in to theatre again after the first and last unfruitful audition in a year or so. I feel… lost. Not in the day to day sort of way, I feel good about my plans day to day for the most part. But I have no clue what goes on after all those days have run together and another year has passed.
I think maybe if I sit and write out my whole life story in excruciating detail I would find the piece of inspiration or ambition or focus that I dropped however far back. But that seems… well very literally self-indulgent.
Also, PMS the week before Christmas? Really body?
I put myself on natural anti-depressants. Is that a thing you tell your mother? Or your friends? Or just your seldom read livejournal? I told boyfriend and seaweed and Jess. It’s helped. A lot. I only get moody and restless and feel hopeless right just before my lady times, and not as bad except this time when there are so many many things that I have been strong enough to ignore. Like my family and my decision to no longer see them and the fact that Christmas is going to be spent mostly by myself and how I feel disconnected from what felt like a large social circle and has been confined to roommates, boyfriend, and occasionally some people from the old ‘hood. What happened to all the friends I had? Why don’t I get invited out anymore? Paranoid much…
Really I have a lot going on that is positive. Work is going really well, busy as fuck but I am so much better at this job than last year which is gratifying. I still am in love with this house. Now the living room is full of my childhood Christmas memories, which is not helping me get in the spirit as much as I would have hoped, but it certainly has helped.
And I also have this electric blanket.