n. the desire to hold on to time as it passes, like trying to keep your grip on a rock in the middle of a river, feeling the weight of the current against your chest while your elders float on downstream, calling over the roar of the rapids, “Just let go—it’s okay—let go.”
(via justjillin)
I went the whole morning without picking, until 1 pm… after lunch, as always. But still, I haven’t gone the whole morning in quite a while. So I was excited. And I haven’t picked since after lunch.
My skin is super dry right now. It’s been windy, and I haven’t been consistent with moisturizers. This always happens when it changes to summer. I feel oily, so I stop using moisturizer and try to use coconut oil with water. But that’s not enough, so I get super dried out. Any blemishes will get dry and scabby, which makes me want to slough them off. Need to remember to moisturize no matter what!
This prostitution survivor puts it so well:
I’m stressed out and lonely at the moment. It’s been creeping slowly up for the last week. But then I have such nice days. I can’t give myself too long to contemplate things or I go too much inwards, and literally my entire mood will shift into something totally different in the space of hours, which is what happened today. Then a deep feeling of being completely alone sets in. We are all alone, in reality anyway. Maybe the sooner I realise this the better.
It’s not a love loneliness, but it’s more like being in a foreign country alone, kind of loneliness. If you just weren’t so alone maybe you could relax and actually check out this beautiful country you’re in, but when you’re alone you can’t, you’re on edge. You’re in your head all the time. It’s also a loneliness that comes from having a very specific, alienating experience that means that chances of anyone understanding are fairly slim, that again, leads you to living in your mind.
I started the day very optimistic. I saw roses as I was leaving Starbucks and chuckled to myself, “stop and smell them” and “gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”
But then I got to work, and I got depressed and bored. On my way to lunch I started crying. I kept repeating to myself, “am I destined to hate every job? Are there people who just do not like working?”
I was overcome with desperate thoughts that if my boyfriend and I could just get our own company going, then we could work for ourselves and be our own bosses. I also became overcome with sadness and regret and resentment that I didn’t have a husband who had a good job so that I could quit mine. If I volunteered just for fun, I could quit and volunteer somewhere else if I didn’t like it. Or quit for the summer.
But the part that is worse than my two friends, who both assured me they get bored at every job and wish they could quit, is that it’s not always the job itself. Sure, it’s not that fulfilling or making a big difference in the world, but it’s the interpersonal interactions that get to me the most. Having a boss. Even if my boss likes me, I often just hate interacting with someone I report to. I’m paranoid of doing things wrong. I’m paranoid I’m not doing enough, but I don’t care enough to be motivated to do better. I try to interact with my co-workers but get paranoid with them, too.
I mostly just wish I could lay low. I wish I could close my door or turn on headphones. I wish I could work from home. I wish I could go back to teaching English where I was a contractor and didn’t have a boss. I had to interact with my students, but they respected me and didn’t know what I was like outside of the classroom.
