I’ve always been warned about the dangers of writing when you’re sleepy. The warnings I’m apparently to adhere to have ranged from “your proof reading will suck and you’ll subsequently stay awake longer by being meticulous” to “your brain takes over in hyper drive and you don’t realize what you’ve said until after you wake up.”
Personally, I’m hoping for an enjambment of the two.
I don’t know if reality has set in yet that I’m a college student with a full-type-crazy-bananas schedule in front of me. It’s almost like there’s a morbid sense of reality that I’m both denying, and most importantly, refusing to let come into my mind. I feel like, honestly, doing this prevents a certain catastrophic anxiety attack. It’s like, when I realize what I’ve done, that’s when I panic. Not what I’ve done, per se, in a negative way – but that I’m moving progressively forward in what I’m deeming a healthy way.
Sure, this plan isn’t all for myself. I hardly do things for myself. Most of my time is spent in my head making sure that I live up to all the expectations of those around me, even though it seems trite. I have a pressing need to know and understand that I am welcomed, enjoyed, and what anyone else wants – to be loved and wanted. Any person has a desire to feel loved, and acknowledged. I spend a good amount of time wanting those things from those around me.
I’m not sure if the one person that I want to read these posts anymore does, which saddens me, because I don’t know why that’s changed. This blog is my life online with nothing hidden.
I was warned about the sleepy posts – they never make sense, and I refuse to go back through this and proof read it. Hopefully … well, whatever.