(no subject)
Feb. 22nd, 2006 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elizabethOh, wow, am I a cliche or what?
I don't have the energy to write it all up now, but just -- I haven't been able to focus to work in two or three days. My fiction is coming, but it's all melancholy as fuck, and I have a feeling that The Road was indicative of a lot more than I was willing to admit, and fuck.
Liza, you were totally right. I can totally look at myself and say "This is not real, this is not me, this is not the girl I am or want to be, this is just the depression," and that is all true, and knowing that helps a little, but it feels like shit from the inside, and I have to live with this, I am stuck on the inside, and I don't want to.
It's so tiring, the process of not being like this, of trying to pull myself out of this mess. If I stay like this, I don't have to do anything. Exceot that I don't. want. to. be. like this. Was I ever not like this? I remember not being like this, I remember being happy, I remember being able to do more than fucking function. And I know full well that what I consider basic functioning is what many people consider high-level fuinctioning, and I know that my expectations for myself are much higher than they probably should be, considering how much I have been able to fuck up in the last two years, but I know I can do better than this, I can function like that, I can be that girl. I can do that. And it is unutterably frustrating that I apparently can't.
This is more urgent than the shit with pater, clearly, and clearly I need to deal with this first in therapy. Good to know. That's going to be a complete joy to work on.
I don't have the energy to write it all up now, but just -- I haven't been able to focus to work in two or three days. My fiction is coming, but it's all melancholy as fuck, and I have a feeling that The Road was indicative of a lot more than I was willing to admit, and fuck.
Liza, you were totally right. I can totally look at myself and say "This is not real, this is not me, this is not the girl I am or want to be, this is just the depression," and that is all true, and knowing that helps a little, but it feels like shit from the inside, and I have to live with this, I am stuck on the inside, and I don't want to.
It's so tiring, the process of not being like this, of trying to pull myself out of this mess. If I stay like this, I don't have to do anything. Exceot that I don't. want. to. be. like this. Was I ever not like this? I remember not being like this, I remember being happy, I remember being able to do more than fucking function. And I know full well that what I consider basic functioning is what many people consider high-level fuinctioning, and I know that my expectations for myself are much higher than they probably should be, considering how much I have been able to fuck up in the last two years, but I know I can do better than this, I can function like that, I can be that girl. I can do that. And it is unutterably frustrating that I apparently can't.
This is more urgent than the shit with pater, clearly, and clearly I need to deal with this first in therapy. Good to know. That's going to be a complete joy to work on.
Reposted from LJ, 20 March 2009
