There is stuff, important stuff, that my mind has thought about blogging, mostly good, but it's all getting washed away by the distraction of the negativity rushing through my head. And I know you're probably sick of it. You want to tell me that I'm being (pardon the language) an emo bitch. You're not wrong, of course, because I am being precisely that with these entries.
But I can't help it. These failings are all my fault. It's not like life has conspired against me to push me into increasingly-worsening situations. It's all me. It's my doing. I'm my own worst enemy. By not being able to actually get done what I need to get done, I'm setting myself up for failure. And by making myself feel bad for my failures because I know they're mine, well, it's probably the truth and is meant to help encourage me to stop procrastinating, but it does make me feel worse.
It's like...a life-unraveling time period. I'm going through a struggle right now. My dominant emotion is struggle. I just...find continuing this to be incredibly stressful. And...I don't know what to do. Talking isn't helping me. It's only distracting me from the tasks I so desperately need to complete.
The sad thing is, I know exactly how this will turn out.
Distractions will "come first".
Come 2 am or so, I'll decide it's too late.
I'll try to sleep, figuring I'll get all the work done tomorrow. (In spite of having promised it being done before the end of the weekend...which is technically one hour from now.) And then, come tomorrow, I will BS my way through, skating by whatever I can salvage as I rush to do a week's worth of work in only half an hour.
Sometimes, I wish you could see the nonverbals I make when typing these thoughts. Like the fingers-wrapped-around-face-dragging-down facepalm for the earlier half, and the pathetic sad pitiful laugh of gallows humor when I typed out the part of BSing my way through.
I'm smart. I might not be a genius, but there's no denying that I'm smart. I know a lot of stuff. I pick up stuff very quickly. And I am an expert at manipulating the system, seeing the strings that control it. (Not just a mafia skill! Though mafia certainly is where it's most prominent, and where I've honed it.) If I were stupid, then I'd just fail at everything. I'd have lost my job thrice over by now (if I ever got it in the first place), and failed college many more times than I have been close to having done.
But the fact that I'm so good at figuring out what I need to do in order to get points, and maximize how many I get each time, proves that I'm smart. If I actually applied that talent to doing something productive rather than using it exclusively to save myself, I might actually have a future.
Yet here I am...wasting it.
And knowing that I'm wasting it.
And only making the most feeble, pathetic attempts at fixing it.
It...really, really sucks. To have so much...and see that you have it...but know that it's all being wasted, and feeling unable to change anything about that.
But I can't help it. These failings are all my fault. It's not like life has conspired against me to push me into increasingly-worsening situations. It's all me. It's my doing. I'm my own worst enemy. By not being able to actually get done what I need to get done, I'm setting myself up for failure. And by making myself feel bad for my failures because I know they're mine, well, it's probably the truth and is meant to help encourage me to stop procrastinating, but it does make me feel worse.
It's like...a life-unraveling time period. I'm going through a struggle right now. My dominant emotion is struggle. I just...find continuing this to be incredibly stressful. And...I don't know what to do. Talking isn't helping me. It's only distracting me from the tasks I so desperately need to complete.
The sad thing is, I know exactly how this will turn out.
Distractions will "come first".
Come 2 am or so, I'll decide it's too late.
I'll try to sleep, figuring I'll get all the work done tomorrow. (In spite of having promised it being done before the end of the weekend...which is technically one hour from now.) And then, come tomorrow, I will BS my way through, skating by whatever I can salvage as I rush to do a week's worth of work in only half an hour.
Sometimes, I wish you could see the nonverbals I make when typing these thoughts. Like the fingers-wrapped-around-face-dragging-down facepalm for the earlier half, and the pathetic sad pitiful laugh of gallows humor when I typed out the part of BSing my way through.
I'm smart. I might not be a genius, but there's no denying that I'm smart. I know a lot of stuff. I pick up stuff very quickly. And I am an expert at manipulating the system, seeing the strings that control it. (Not just a mafia skill! Though mafia certainly is where it's most prominent, and where I've honed it.) If I were stupid, then I'd just fail at everything. I'd have lost my job thrice over by now (if I ever got it in the first place), and failed college many more times than I have been close to having done.
But the fact that I'm so good at figuring out what I need to do in order to get points, and maximize how many I get each time, proves that I'm smart. If I actually applied that talent to doing something productive rather than using it exclusively to save myself, I might actually have a future.
Yet here I am...wasting it.
And knowing that I'm wasting it.
And only making the most feeble, pathetic attempts at fixing it.
It...really, really sucks. To have so much...and see that you have it...but know that it's all being wasted, and feeling unable to change anything about that.
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