Tuesday 23 August 2016

About Comments

Good morning, gentle readers all!

Thank you for the responses to my blog posts, both online and off. They really mean a lot to me. It helps to know that I'm not alone -- that I'm not just talking to myself in a vacuum.

I just have one request though: please, if you leave a comment, could you sign in or do something else to identify yourselves? I would dearly love to know who I'm having a conversation with... Who actually reads this, you know?

That's it for now. I hope today is a brilliant day for you all!

Monday 22 August 2016

When I get low...

I need to talk to someone. Not about anything specific. I am in such a messed up space that I don't know who to talk to, though...

So I figured out what's possibly the number one reason I struggle to write on my blog. It's the same problem I have with relating to people. I am scared to death of opening up myself to anybody.

That said, I'm trying to be different. To be better than my prior self. And so, without any further ado...

I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel pathetic and lonely and I want -- need -- to talk to somebody, but I am too depressed and anxious and shy to initiate conversation. That little voice telling me I'm a stupid burden is VERY loud tonight. I know I need to say something to someone, but right now I honestly can't process emotion well enough to even figure out who would care enough to chat with me.

Yes, I am experiencing self pity, low self esteem, and sadness. No, it's not voluntary. If I could choose to feel otherwise, I would. I am trying to see past this mountain of fucked up emotions to where I need to be cooking dinner, having a bath, and getting ready for work tomorrow... Instead, I burned my food because I couldn't manage to get up and save it in time, I broke my favourite wooden spoon, and I honestly can't scrape together any enthusiasm for the tepid half-bath which is all our geyser is capable of.

All I want to do right now is lie in bed until I pass out from low blood sugar. Unconsciousness is kind of like sleep, right?

Depression is so fucked up.

If you have the spoons, I sure would appreciate a few kind words.