I suck at writing anymore.
I’ve been dealing with depression, anxiety, stress, doubt – I’m a big giant mess. My last post was about my announcement to the blogging community (and anyone who happens to read my blog) that I’ve quit my job and I’m headed towards a years worth of schooling in order to finish.
I’m supposed to be happy about this – I’m supposed to be super excited, and super ready to go. Yaya! New adventures, excitement for the entire year of schooling, etc. I should also be super excited that I’ve transferred to a new, top floor apartment, free of the Vampire Elephant Troll, and able to sleep. I’ve gotten some solid sleep since March 26th when I moved into the new place.
But, I still feel like crawling into a hole and wishing it would all go away.
Depression and anxiety journeys suck. The apartment is set up – all of the pictures are on the wall, the kitchen is put away – yet, I still don’t have the energy to actually put away any of the clothes that are scattered among the bedroom and closet floor. I come home, look at it – “meh, I’ll do it tomorrow.” It’s been the same excuse over and over. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
My mom even came and helped me relocate to the new apartment up the hill. I couldn’t believe the offer and that she came almost an hour away to help out. It was awesome, and I was so stupidly happy that she came to help. She put away my kitchen for me. She is awesome.
I’ll do it tomorrow. I’ll put the clothes away. I’ll write this blog post. I’ll do this homework. I’ll study. I’ll vacuum up the crumbs from the oatmeal packet that missed the trashcan and are on the floor. Tomorrow; I’ll do it tomorrow.
There are a lot things that keep creeping up and making me worry. I don’t know how to “not worry.” When people say “don’t worry about it” – yeah, I don’t know how to not worry. Sometimes I really want to explain that telling me not to worry is like telling a ballerina not to dance. Or a bird not to fly. I don’t know how to not worry. If I did, I wouldn’t. I worry constantly, and it makes me sick.
So what do I worry about?
The short answer: everything.
I’ve quit my job. I’ve quit my security blanket of good, awesome money coming in with 401k, health insurance, vacation time, etc. to finish my education and to hopefully get a job when I graduate. Is there a buyer’s remorse for quitting your job for education? I don’t know how to describe it. I’m starting to worry about how much of a chunk I’ve bit off by myself, or what I am actually going to be able to do.
I’m scared, and I think that adds a lot to the worry section of my brain. Failure is terrifying for me. I guess this is in part due to the fact that my mom and dad kicked me off the coddle train when I was about fifteen, but it just makes everything more terrifying for me. What if I don’t pass a class and then this whole dream of graduation in May is completely defunct? And then I have to go another semester? Or! What if I didn’t calculate right and I run out of money.
Or what happens if something happens, and something doesn’t go right and something changes. And something stupid happens, and blue bunnies and purple elephants laugh at me. And I’m alone and something makes me scared and I run away and hide with the blue bunnies and purple elephants, because after they laugh at me, they’ll tell me it is all okay.
I feel like crying. I feel like hiding in a hole. Tomorrow I’ll do it. Tomorrow I’ll snap out of this worry mode of self-destruction. Tomorrow I’ll pounce on life like an eager kitten on a new, wiggly little toe from under a blanket. Tomorrow….tomorrow. I let this mountain of things pile up that I’m supposed to do and yet, I can’t.
It may be because this job is holding onto me like a vice. They don’t want me to leave, but I do. I can’t hear anymore more stories that start with, “I’ve never been sick a day in my life” and then six months later, they are gone. I can’t hear anymore about how living is a risk – because, it’s true. Everything you do can kill you and I need to get the hell out of this thought. I don’t want to worry about people who don’t take care of themselves either.
I’ll do it tomorrow. Until then, I’ll click mindlessly through Reddit.