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26 January 2015 @ 12:17 am
 
So, uh, hi. I never come here anymore because, well, most of the people I interacted with here are gone. And I've got a tumblr, now, of course. But sometimes I feel like I share too much there. (Plus, my tumblr doesn't get me quite like LJ does. Especially after I've been thought dumping here for more than a decade.)

I know I promised a real update the last time I updated, but hell, there's been so much time between then and now. I don't even know what I would've said.

A summary: Nicéphore died. I pretty much killed him. I was Abaddon for my birthday and Charlie for Halloween. Molly was there, but wasn't as fun as my last birthday. I have managed to stop counting how many funeral processions occur, but I do still look. My bc is working mostly, but not all the way. I went off it for a week after the doctor's office kept forgetting to renew it (even after I called) and I gained 5lbs. Can you believe that? I've picked these things to update since I read through my last few entries trying to figure out what to say.


In other news, it's really hard to feel this way. I can have moments of happiness or amusement or whatever other positive emotion, I was literally laughing at something I read five minutes ago, but underneath is this incredibly dark cloud. I think maybe it's been there my whole life. It just gets worse sometimes. I didn't even spend a lot of time thinking about the emptiness of my future this time around. It doesn't always need a cause.

I need a real job and soon. I'm gonna lose my health insurance if I don't get a job. Preferably a good one with great benefits since bc is $35 without insurance. I'll just go off it when it happens. I don't need it. Not really. The doctor will yell at me. I'll probably gain back all the weight I dropped after starting the pill, too. She'll yell at me for that, as well. She wants me to work out every day and I'm just too lazy. I'm fat and ugly and I'm always gonna be fat and ugly. Who cares. No one cares.

Sometimes it's like I'm drowning. Sometimes it's like I'm screaming in a room full of people, but no one can hear me. It's hard. I feel all this pressure to do things and be something, but a part of me isn't ready to do or be anything even though I know I should be. Perhaps it's arrested development. Or maybe that's just an excuse. I'm afraid of everything and that's hard. I especially don't like prolonged interaction with people I don't know. Elevated heart rate, sweating, itching, shaky hands, wavering voice, tight throat, stuttering. How will anyone ever take me seriously?

Some days I literally want to walk barefoot into the woods, dig a hole, and bury myself in the earth. Other days, I want to walk out the door, up the street, onto the main road, pick a direction, and just keep walking. Walking and walking and walking until I'm totally gone. Or maybe I'll run. Run, run, run until my legs fall off.

But the first option is my favourite. To let the smell of the earth surround me and let the dirt fill my mouth. I'd become a plant, just like I've always wanted.
 
 
Where To Take The Acidic Medicine: Main room
Citric Acid In The Brain Whispers: melancholymelancholy
Hissing As The Acid Burns Sounds Like: A Haunting