sliding along

I took a vacation from work for a week. Nine whole days counting weekends. Today is the first day back. When I left I was feeling like I was in a rut. The days felt agonizingly long. I started slacking and not really caring about anything. It's not too odd but being away made me actually miss this place. Even as I spent my time wisely being able to live without routine or schedule, I missed it. I missed the people, even the most mundane tasked that seemed to annoy me before I left. I never thought that office work was my thing. I'm not saying that it really is, I guess it works for now. The thing that I needed was a kick start to replenish me. I started a story, something longer than the short stories that I usually produce. I'm working on it with a friend of mine. She will be doing the illustrations for me, since she needs "shit to do" and I needed a "reason to write again". I was apprehensive at first but the more I thought about it the more it seemed necessary. I need to get in the habit of free writing again. I'm not going to say this hit me right away. After spending a large quantity of my week chain smoking and drinking cheap booze I thought about what would help me release the tension I've let build up inside of me. I had gotten so angry with life. The things that I had wanted to do didn't seem to happen the way I would have liked. I wanted to leave the state, just to go somewhere. The only places I went outside of Minneapolis was up north to the family and Apple Valley to see Dark Knight at the Imax. I guess I thought leaving would help me. I don't know why I always think that I can run away from my problems and they'll fix themselves while I'm gone. All I got out of the small time I left was an irritated cat and a more stress caused by such family time. So I spent the last four days of my vacation plotting. I found a main character in my imagination and she grew. Suddenly I'm asking questions about this person who doesn't exist. I start feeling a building anticipation to figure her out. Who is she? How does she feel? I wrote more in that four days than I have on a story in a long time. As I attempted to read another book today while sitting on lunch I realized that I can't... it's weird. I've read article of artists who do this. They paint a similar scene or person over and over. Most don't imply it but it's almost like they are haunted by this image. Hoping to capture this thing that they created in their own mind. I think that's what happened and is happening with me. I've never felt such a strong connection to any of the short stories I've written. I'm hoping that I can share some of it once I am finished. Is it weird that I didn't think of writing until it was offered to me? I've always considered it as being so therapeutic to me. I have a journal and I have these blogs. Never before that moment did I think I should actually start a novel. I'm too pessimistic usually to think that I can even accomplish something like that. I kept thinking about the stress I had caused myself and how unnecessary it was. My mom told me she cried for 3 days after I mailed her the letter I had written earlier this year (I don't know if you all remember it). For some reason or another she asked me why I didn't write more often. She doesn't know me that incredibly well so I told her about the blogs I keep on here. Oddly enough she asked me more. Seeming interested and bringing this to our biggest bonding moment in years, I told her a bit about all of them. To my surprise she encouraged me to write and I blew it off. It feels like now, that I'm rambling, the signs were all around me to do this. Being here doesn't seem to bother me today because I feel like I have something more. I have this thing that might be wonderful growing in my brain and it's not a tumor! I almost think that's more why I needed the vacation. I needed to regain hope in myself that this isn't my only option. I'm a slacker though so will see how long I can keep this up!

Why?

The feds have yet to give me money. So I get to wait on hold forever! Yeah!!! I hate this. All I want is to get my money damn it. The most annoying thing to me ever is having to sit here and wait for them. I've got about 15 minutes left in me to sit here in wait since that will be my break time. I feel like a slacker spending the first part of my day on hold I can't help but wish I didn't have a scheduled break. It's just a cigarette damn it! So what's up feds it's JULY! Everyone else has gotten their money so where is mine? Oh, lost you say! Well, no thank you for having me on hold for the past 35 minutes so you can tell me that I need to re-send it and that you people obviously can't do your job correctly. Damn it. Now I have to figure that out and I'm working off of maybe 4 hours of sleep today. Which isn't really anything new. I haven't been able to sleep that much for the past week. They don't even have real coffee here! It's all decaf, which is like a really bad cock tease. I've tried everything to help me sleep. I've been reading, wrote close to a novel of thoughts in my journal, playing video games, etc. Nothing helps besides the obvious which is drinking and I feel kind of bad doing that every day. All I want is my god damn money from the government right now and a stiff drink. Or a whole bottle... it's a little past noon that's okay to have those thoughts right? Yea smoke time! Yes I know I'm bitching but I'm trying to update more! I shall rant to you soon...

Spiral of me

I've had it with today. Maybe not today, perhaps I have had it with myself. I can't seem to keep myself happy. I went to my happy place and everything. I pictured the blue sky, the fucking ocean and even puppies, no happiness to be found. I almost feel like I am at an odd crossroad. Let me explain. Last night, I had an epiphany. For the first time in a very long time I was happy. A rush of energy seemed to flow through my body. It felt humbling to be alone and feel this great power inside of me surging through my veins. I wrote at least 12 pages worth of rambling in my journal. All was well. I was grateful for experiencing this. I went to bed early with a smile on my face feeling as though I had things where I wanted them to be. When I woke up today it felt like all of that was gone. I couldn't seem to get in the right step of things. Such is life I thought, once you get things figured out they seem to dissolve down as quick as they were formed. I wonder if I threw myself into this place by putting so much pressure on a pure feeling. Nothing amazing had happened really to make me happy. When I was younger I imagined bottling up these feeling. Preserving them like jam or picked things to break out when needed. I feel like everything is out of whack today. The stress cause by the stack of bills, nonexistent motivation and lack of food. I realized last night during my happy surge the mistake that I've been making all of these years. I've felt a need to become something. Thinking to myself that if I do this or that I will become this. I would evolve into this wonderful person that I felt that I could be. After many tries and fails, I get upset and quit. I never quite realized that all this time I spend trying to become someone else should be spent appreciating who I am. I'm still not there. I can point out my flaws like no ones business. I know everyone does this, but it still doesn't make it okay. I don't know how to fully love and accept myself. Leaving me here, hating myself yet again. Blaming my problems on the day. Why is it so much easier to see the flaws? Why can't I seem to see the goodness of me? I wish I could be to a point where I don't want to change myself or my life. To just stay at that happy place. I doubt that anyone really gets there. Most of this spiral of thoughts is lead on by the one question I've been asking myself for years. What do I want to do when I grow up? Who do I want to be? Teachers ask you it in school. Parents ask you at home. The people around me already seem to have it figured out. I wonder why it seems so much easier for them to know what they wanted to do. Not for me! I have to sit there and nit-pick every option. I find a flaw in all that I think about doing and in my anxiety driven thoughts I decide that it won't work. I let my dreams unravel time and time again. I feel like I should allow myself to actually go for them instead I don't. Fretting to make a mistake or lack of judgement. I ease away from thoughts of school walking away from them when I feel they're impossible. Now my head hurts and the happiness brought upon me is from the clicking of a few aspirin against my teeth. No wonder I put myself down when I have been giving so much stress into a simple question. Agonizing over it for the past 6+ years. I need to find me and ask what I really want to do with my life once in for all. I need to stop beating myself up.