Wrong.
I feel like crap. For no apparent or particular reason. Just real crummy these last few days. Chalk it up to hormones maybe but I can't help but not think there's something absolutely wrong with me & my brain. But why is that?
Sure. Okay. Depression. Right. Millions of people suffer from it right? And what do most do? Take meds? I don't want to. Therapy? Can't afford it. Nor would I want to because I've tried it & it wasn't for me. Therapy through friends. My usual method. But some days I just feel like it does no one any good.
If you have nothing nice to say don't say anything at all.
Trying.
I keep thinking my will to live just isn't as strong as everyone else's. I'm not saying I'd like to die exactly, & this isn't some sort of suicide call for help. It's just simply, that I'm frustrated with life. I'm frustrated. Same old same old. Billions of people somehow make it work & here I am wasting time blogging about how unhappy I am with life right now.
Be positive right. ?
Positive outlook + positive attitude = positive outcomes.
But when does it end? I keep climbing up only to be pushed back down again. So the problem must lie with me. I have no motivation right now. People ask me what it is I want to do...I tell them I don't know. Sleep?
Not a realistic option. Maybe I should try meds...but I don't want to. For a lot of reasons I don't even care to explain.
I just hate false positives. And things that don't make sense. And life seems to be full of it lately.
Oh wait, I'm just more aware of it. Life is never perfect right. Hope. They say hope. I'm not even sure I have any of that hope ingredient right now.
I'm just trying to get through tomorrow. And not mess anything up along the way. I'm not always like this so why do I feel like this on a semi-regular basis.??
At least once a month I'm negative Nancy. Nina actually. Negative Nina. I hate her.
UGH. I keep wishing something would just take me out. How messed up is it that I no longer contemplate suicide because peace is what I'm after & I don't honestly believe that suicide is my way out of life? So instead if something were to just take me out, that would be different...not my fault, therefore, not something that could haunt me for all of eternity.... but I just have no motivation right now. I don't want to care. But I feel like I should care or life is just an empty shell.
I'm an empty shell right now. Robotic. But I don't want to be. So don't be right? Simple.
Not. I'd rather sleep all day. Not wake up but it seems I can't even do that anymore.
On a completely different note, while I'm throwing my negativity out into the universe can I just say there's this stupid skank of a biatch c*nt who works for my uncle & sometimes I wonder how anyone can become such an unpleasant 2-faced princess at 50. I don't know how old she really is but her face sure looks 50 & I'm sure those cigarettes aren't helping. I mean give it up already. Whatever happened to aging with grace? She has none. But the boys love her. Yes the boys. She's a ho.
:)
The smiley face is a lie. Talking shit about someone did not make me feel better for the record. Worse, but I'm leaving it up here anyway because the truth needs to be told & there's no way I can expect people to act with integrity & to be honest if I don't practice it myself.
And for another fun exercise: frustration What the frick am I supposed to do with my life? Check the plank in my own eye before I start pointin fingers at other people's small sticks right?
Unprofessional. Unwise. These are words that pop into my mind as I type all this mumbo jumbo crap running through my brain & then I have to wonder why it all matters....why it's more important to be professional than it is to be honest. Why is that?
You can be honest & still be polite. It's a fine line I'm sure but if people just had more integrity in what they did & held themselves accountable maybe there'd be less finger pointing & more just accepting. I think I'm just not cut out for the professional world. In which case I'm not sure how I should make a living doing something I can be proud of.
Fact of the matter is that I'm not exactly proud of being a bartender. There's nothing wrong with it right. Only I get sick of pouring beers & throwing out empty bottles & baby sitting drunks twice as old as me.
I need a new perspective. I want to run away. Into the wild. To Alaska maybe. I think I'm more suited to live in a cabin and less idiot people to be cautious of. I guess this is it. I just decided I'm fed up with my complaining & maybe should just try going to bed.
Goodnight....(on a side note I just watched that South Park episode where Cartman pretends to have tourettes & I'm feeling like pretending like I have it too just so I can say....FUCKIN BITCH CUNT ASSHOLE!)
Sorry.
