Sunday, June 28, 2020

I'm supposed to be doing this more again, and every time I open this up I sort of stare at a blank page.  Which has been my story for a while when it comes to writing anything...it's very inconvenient.  I am trying to write an article and I can't ever find the words and I fucking need to, since I plan on job marketing this year and I will never get anything if I have zero articles. 

I'm just sort of...deflated. 

My submission got rejected again and I thought I would bounce back a bit easier but I haven't really.  I think it is because my desperation has hit a very high point and a small setback has me just screaming in my head to the point where I can't think of anything. I recently saw a comic where it portrayed an anxious person who was always thinking about so much and freaking out and then later it was just them blankly staring while their thoughts were just a fuzzy screen.  And that's how I feel. 

Hell, even yesterday I found out my sister is pregnant again and I was...happy in theory? But I didn't feel anything, really. If anything, I felt worse because I did not have the reaction I know I should have had. Like, it is exciting and I'm happy for her especially since she had so much trouble with the twins, but I didn't...feel it. It's hard to describe, but I exited the conversation pretty quickly because I upset myself.

It's like...I can't do anything right to the point where even something like good news is something my mind fucks up somehow.


God even this took so fucking long to write. 

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

I am in a fog, still. 

And I cannot seem to get that intense focus I want in order to write effectively. 

For this paper I have a detailed outline and I think I know how I want to go about writing it but I am just...stuck.  

Today I tried writing fic in an attempt to jump start shit and I hate everything I fucking wrote because it is all garbage and I am an awful fucking mess who can't do shit. 

Even this I'm having trouble writing and finding the words for. 


Maybe I need to like...get a fountain soda or some shit.  I usually have one when I write at B&N and it helps me focus bc of the caffeine.  It sucks that I am now like trying desperately to think of things to help because this block needs to go away.  It has been here too long and it has become detrimental to my doing anything

Thursday, June 11, 2020

It is strange; during the day I sometimes feel fine. Like nothing is wrong and things are okay.  Then when it gets later and I'm more...I guess alone, since everyone is sleeping, I feel hollow.  I don't think I'm pretending or anything during the day...but I feel like a shell of a person sometimes.  Is it boredom or apathy or something else?  Am I just so listless because I cannot find the point of doing much of anything right now? 

I did send my paper out again; it will likely be rejected but I mean it at least was sent again. 

Part of me wonders if my listlessness and everything is just...because I feel like I can't think.  A few times I have tried to sit down to write - write my next paper, or even just write fic - and I stare at blank documents and try desperately to pull coherent thoughts out of my head.  It is just...as though everything is foggy.  I feel like it has been like this for a very long time, though sometimes it is worse and other times it is fine (and clearer than usual, I guess).  And I think about how productive and shit I used to be.  How I was able to focus and zone in and think and be creative and I just...am a shell now.

Sometimes I do wonder if my meds have something to do with this.  I try to not think about that too much because then the temptation to just stop taking them will be very strong, despite my knowledge of how that would be an awful idea.  I've joked a few times how I would probably just go crazy if I stopped them, but part of me has begun to question if being whacked out was better for my productivity and creativity.  Maybe then I'd be able to function enough to write a fucking paper or chapter.  Sure, I might have an episode and probably should spare everyone that (so should probably just be like "oh hey I gotta go back all of a sudden"), but would I be able to actually do something beyond just sitting here staring at blank documents before giving up and playing video games or some shit? 

Even my memory has been terrible, though it has been for some time.  I do think that is related to meds, and I just...wish it wasn't.  I wish I could recall things better than I do. 

I'm just...going through motions.  Because stopping to try and do productive things and then being unsuccessful in doing said things is worse than trying to do them in the first place anymore.  It makes me feel terrible, and reminds me of how I've tricked people into thinking I'm smarter and more competent than I actually am.  (Hell, I was looking at job stuff since I should be going on the market in the fall, and I'm just...wondering how I'll get a job with the dismal fucking CV I have in comparison to some of the ones I've seen from others.)

And sometimes people joke about these things - about how I sleep very late and for very long, and how I get caught up in shit that doesn't matter, and stuff like that.  And I laugh, but I know there's truth to them.  I'm unproductive and don't contribute anything.  I can't do much.  Why am I even still here if I can't.


Oh. Recently I opened up my external hard drive because of my wifi issues at my apartment. It's been a while so I took a trip down memory lane, and was surprised to see pics that I had long since thought I deleted.  It was a bit strange seeing his face for the first time in a while, but I got rid of everything of him I saw.

Strangely enough I've been going through my room trying to clear things out and I do still have one thing he gave: a wolf plush.  For some reason I could not get rid of it.  And still don't want to.  It has nothing to do with him, though.  If it did, I would get rid of it.  I just think its cute, and it would feel like I'm abandoning it.

It's been fucking years.

And although I am back to basically accepting my lack of attraction to most people, I do still resent my own mind for making him one of my extremely rare exceptions, and the most important one. (Like, count on one hand without using all fingers rare.)

I try to not think of it much anymore.  But these small trips down memory lane got my mind wandering in unpleasant directions. 

Saturday, June 6, 2020

I am up past two in the morning because I can't stop thinking about shit.

Today I think I really upset my oldest sister in my attempt to talk about the protests. I'm trying to explain that I am completely on the side of the protests because I have seen too much police brutality and disproportionate responses and lies and so much abuse of power that I cannot be "on both sides." Immediately she got defensive, because I guess to her that was me saying she cannot be worried/cannot say she is worried about her husband, who is a CO. 

Which...was not what I was saying. 

I am trying to explain that basically the whole institution of the police the way that it currently is is a huge problem - it punishes so-called "good cops" for not following orders to basically either brutalize or turn away, while rewarding bad ones with power and zero accountability. The whole "you must back up your fellow officers no matter what" mentality is bad and I cannot understand people who argue against that, truthfully. There is deep institutional racism deep in the police and that is shown every day in the news. To hear people basically pull a "both sides are bad" because they're convinced that: a) there is more looting by the protesters than what is actually happening, and b) that property damage and theft is on the same level as murder and brutality, is frustrating. 

So, you're allowed to be afraid for your husband. (Honestly I wish he was in a different profession.) But it is not right to blame protesters, when the reason people are angry and demanding change is because the police as an institution has eroded any trust and goodwill they may have . (Or rather, their brutality is becoming more apparent thanks to people's ability to take video.)

Any organization that punishes people who try to do good is one that needs to change. People fighting for that change are not bad. They're upset. They have tried over and over and over again for things to change, only to be met with more injustice, especially under the current administration. 

I feel guilty that I upset her. But I then feel guilty for feeling guilty and for wanting to just not talk about it. Being able to run away from the topic is itself a privilege.

My being against the police is not my being against my brother-in-law, or her. It is my being against the racism and white supremacy, tbe brutality, the militarization, the fraternity culture, the lack of accountability, the dismally low level of training, etc. It is my desire for things to be better. Because only when these issues are addressed and reform occurs, public opinion about the police will continue to decline dramatically. 

Only when those things are addressed will those who want to be "good cops," actually be able to do so. 


In semi related news, my mentality has been fucked and mood swings have been bad and I am more articulate on paper than I ever will be while speaking. Basically I have returned to being like "I should go back" because I feel...I don't want to say unwanted, but a nuisance. 

But when I was back, I felt terrible as well. I'm back to wanting to go somewhere new, though with everything happening as well as my continued lack of money, that isn't feasible. 

Maybe tomorrow I'll just...drive somewhere. Nowhere in particular. No destination or anything. Just to clear my head.

Tuesday, June 2, 2020

Usually my mom says goodnight to me when I'm home.

Today I kind of called her out on something about the protests (basically she got very 'as soon as people start looting, it loses the message and everyone should be arrested blah blah blah' and I was like '...please no').  I didn't get nasty or anything, but I didn't like something she said and told her to not just take the mass media outlets at their word, since there is a lot of brutality not being shown and that it is focused too much on the whole "people are looting" narrative, which is overall bullshit.  (Not in that there's no one doing it, but that a lot of it has been linked to groups outside the protesters - sometimes even the cops themselves, particularly for property damage - and that it is unfair to keep talking about that rather than the very important message of the realities of racial injustice and inequality and the white supremacy that is rooted within the police and the justice system.  I didn't go into all that, but that's really what I was thinking of.  Though I also don't care at all if people loot a Target or Walmart lol they're big fucking international corporations who don't pay their fair share of taxes they'll fucking survive.) 

Anyway yeah I did basically just say something and then my sister and I sort of talked about some of the brutality we've seen on videos from people who are protesting and shit, though this was later and while we were in the kitchen with no one else. 

Regardless, I did not get a goodnight tonight and I don't know if I am reading too much into it and I hope I am because I'll be...disappointed.  And sad.


Like, I'm sort of again wondering if I should have stayed at my apartment...

It's strange; I go to my apartment, and after a few days feel like I should leave.  I come to my parents' house, and after a week, I feel like I should leave.  It's sort of like...feeling lost.  That's basically my default state of mind, just feeling like I don't belong anywhere anymore.  Again wishing that I could just run to somewhere new, but knowing I don't have the resources. 

I mean, if all goes well I will finally be able to look for actual faculty positions soon, and who knows, maybe something will happen.  (I have been thinking about once again expanding my search - I kept saying I only wanted the northeast, but with everything going on, I might look to some non-U.S. places as well.)


Writing in this is cathartic and I often forget that.  Hence why I only come back to it every once in a while.