Final Batch of Cookies to 2016

We made cookies. Mom bought more cigarettes. (Ugh to that last one.)

Now I’m sitting here with an aching back. Not doing what I should be doing in terms of exit counseling on those stupid fucking loans.

And irritated because my mom won’t go sleep in her own bed. I’ve fucking lost the couch tonight. And I’m pissed for no real reason. Other than my period started and I’m depressed like I have been for awhile. And I just want to be left alone.

And I’m paranoid she’s fucked my chances up to one internship so I can’t apply for it. Which it shouldn’t be a problem but it is.

And I’m miserable and I can’t fucking breathe and I just want to be left the fuck alone downstairs.

I’m swearing up a storm and I’m in hysterics and I shouldn’t be but I can’t stop it.

2016 can go and fuck itself. Even though 2017 is shaping to be a nightmare, too, perhaps I’ll find strength and purpose and understanding in what it is I want and need.

No more pressure from everyone. No more texts from people I don’t want to talk to.

However, I’m currently in a dilemma of posting something rather…brash and triggering on my Facebook page. About college, and the bad and the good (and the bad) that came with it. About politics and the divide and how I am so damn sick of the blatant hate spewing and disregard to listen to anyone outside your political view points. To which I’m guilty of, too- but I’ve acknowledged it and have been working on that for over a year. I’m not perfect, but dammit I’m one of few trying. And of depression and anxiety and the blatant fact that I am not okay. And I’ll continue to have these issues even decades down the line. Because they do not just go away. They pass, and I have a reprieve. And then the return again and I’ve no way to make them vanish for the rest of my life. Of the disregard, the disrespect, and the stigma. Of the fact I am so done. And I’m done being put on a pedestal I’ve told people to stop putting me on.

I don’t know what to do. It’ll trigger drama, or remain ignored and I can vanish from their stupid social media world. I can live in peace, perhaps, from their narrowminded stupidity or perhaps I can start over (in time) on there altogether.

Basically. I’m done. 2016 is ending. And I’ll reflect on that year tomorrow as my last real post on this blog. But also, I’ve finished college. And I’m not going to be the same person by the end of 2017.

I’m tired of people projecting their image of me, when really I’m a stranger. Even to my mother. I’ve become a stranger.

At least we didn’t botch the cookies this time.


Weekends In

That’s what this one is.

I still have my Exit Counseling to do. (Oops.)

But depression’s swallowed me up a bit, and I’m currently in a spiral of “how to adult” and my own identity again.

I’m fine.

Just don’t make me move to the city 15 minutes away.

The Clouds Breathe

A song by The Glitch Mob. I don’t usually go for that electronic sound- but aside from Daft Punk I’m digging this group, and have for years.

I had pizza this evening. I don’t think my body agreed with it.

I’ll do some serious stretching, as well as all of the coloring, come the morrow.

I’m tired. This song is bittersweet. I feel very broken and isolated and tired.

But somehow very calm.

Music is a wondrous thing. I cannot wait to be done, to have graduated; so I can quietly fade off into another life as I rebuild my reality again. My obligations will have been met by that point, and life can rebuild.

I’m so depressing tonight.

Perhaps it was due to my phone scaring me with a lack of response to everything I did. I never reset it, after I got it to reboot (after 4 attempts). And then finding out the hair place I need to get hold of wasn’t open as long as their damned Facebook page said. And then I couldn’t do anymore homework. I just…sat. And thought. And sat. Tested yoga poses, but they’re beyond my current flexibility because I’m just caught in an endless rut and I need to breathe but I can’t.

I just can’t.

And no one gets that.

All it ever is is “hang in there <3” and “you’re almost there!” and it’s not what I need to fucking hear.

And no one gets that. No one.

I just want to be somewhere far from this. Because I can’t fucking breathe or focus and I just…lost all steam. Gone. Poof. I’m cracking.

I never expected 2016 to proceed like this. I expected that joke of a relationship to end. I expected the crunch time.

Hell, I expected my mom to not understand just how much that awful summer job wears me out.

But this bout of depression is early. It shouldn’t have hit until 2017 at the earliest. But it never left from 2015.

I’m not a suicidal mess. Nor am I blubbering mess. I’m an empty void continuously putting myself on the line for everyone with disregard to myself. Self destructive, yet I still stand again every fucking day. I don’t know how. I really don’t.

I do know, however, that this can’t keep going. And I’m more and more likely to find a ticket out.

I know some spectacular people.

But again- no one reaches their hand for me.

Even my best friend hasn’t. Neither have. One has kept me company these last days, more than the other. And in our uncertainty we’ve found warm company.

But I don’t have anyone grabbing me to keep me from falling further. I don’t have anyone gathering my pieces so I can pull myself back together. I’ve said this before. Probably repeatedly.

What a lonely world I exist in.

Slow Sunday (with Skype!)

Best friend dragged me into a group Skype session. It’s rather sad when I don’t even have energy for that.

Or to Skype one on one with her after.

My linework is predominantly done, however.

And then I’m a bit insulted she wanted me to text her. Then didn’t text me really after.

I dunno. This…plan they have. It’s fantastic, yet I feel…barred in by it. I’m hoping that’s a side effect from stress and levels of depression.

Otherwise my intuition is saying “don’t do it”.

When did I, eccentric and slightly erratic in plans and dreams, become practical and analytically thoughtful on the matter?

I digress. Avoiding Facebook now entirely.

People don’t care. People are terrible. And I’m still being poked my someone on there. (Literally- Facebook’s poke feature.)

26 days to go. I’m royally fucked. Moving files/copying them over. Coloring all day tomorrow. And Tuesday.

Maybe I just won’t go to class that evening.

We’ll see.

Election, 2016

I was nervous throughout the day.

I never expected to end my day in fear.

I wasn’t fortunate enough to have my voter registration in time to vote. The state in which I reside did vote for Clinton.

But to the dismay of many, wondering across the board what happened, we’re looking at reign of Donald Trump for four years.

An orange colored man, a sexist and racist Vice President, holding one of the most powerful positions in the first world.

And I see a select few people I know cheering; celebrating how a crook didn’t win. But they have no idea the damage done.

I’ve been on a tirade all across Facebook- posts ranging from fear and anger and more fear, to posts how Americans shouldn’t lose hope and that the sun will still rise and shine on us. And how we’ll unite together and fight for each other against whatever the government might throw our way.

I’m so beyond depressed I’m not functioning right. I drank four or so beers throughout part of it. Was not sober. Could still function well.

My two best friends are looking to grab their passports.

Two of us are terrified among the three. The other is worried, and trying to keep me afloat. I don’t know how to be afloat.

I’m drowning. As is so much of this country. And the globe is shaken and concerned.

We’ve damaged us.

We’ve divided us.

I’m livid. I respect a right to vote.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to be livid and rage and scream and cry and break apart as I watch my world crumble ever more. My rights as a woman. The rights of my gay/lesbian friends. The rights of the rising transgender populace. The rights of all color. The rights of immigrants. The asylum of Muslims fleeing their homes.

What have we fucking done?