I really don’t feel like writing

Therefore, I am making myself write, because it’s the times that you don’t want to do something are the times in which you have to do them, otherwise a downward spiral of failure becomes eminent.  Don’t feel like exercising?  Prepare to have to budget for some larger clothes, fatass.  Don’t feel like cooking?  Prepare to have to budget for some larger clothes, lazy. Don’t feel like working?  Prepare to have to update your resume when you get shitcanned; and budget for larger clothes when you inevitably start to eat out of depression.

I don’t want to have to budget for larger clothing because I don’t feel like writing, and it will depress me, and then I’ll resort to food.  Everything resorts to food, seemingly.  Food is wonderful, and I’m fascinated just how often people turn heel on food on shows like My 600 lb. Life on TLC, blaming a wonderful thing for why they’re so fat and useless.  It’s worse than people turning heel on Ronda Rousey, because she lost her return fight, and now suddenly she’s an overrated has been that everyone has hated for a long time because of some controversial statements she made about homosexuality that have nothing to do with her body of work as a mixed martial artist.

The thing is, a lot of people wanted to believe that when the arbitrary change from 2016 to 2017 occurred, things would miraculously start getting better, more optimistic.  Sure, I don’t buy into it, but I didn’t want to be one of those assholes who bemoaned the entire practice and shit on peoples’ mechanisms to remain optimistic and have hope, but it turns out that as far as my own little world is concerned, things don’t really seem to be getting much better.  Those around me are still going through some rough patches, testing their morale, resolve and their strength, and my family is still in disarray and no matter how much talking and mediating I try to do, still looks to be on a path to a worst possible situation.

Honestly, because I’m apparently so empathetic towards the woes of those around me, it’s difficult to go on with my relatively simple life knowing others are grieving and dealing with bad things in their lives, and despite the fact that I just said my life is relatively simple, the problems that I do have myself aren’t necessarily small ones.  That being said, there are times in which I feel like I’m being stretched pretty hard in numerous directions, and it’s when I feel the most powerless at being able to cope and help and deal, that I feel the brunt of emotional distress bordering at the potential for some depression.

Admittedly, I’m a little exasperated with feeling this way, but if there ever was a light at the end of the tunnel is that I think that everything that I’m going through has a definitive end and a time limit.  And once everything is behind me, I am optimistic that things will become better in my life, and perhaps I will be able to really focus on advancing my own life on a positive path, instead of feeling like everything is kind of stagnant and in limbo.

However for now, I’m getting tired of feeling like there’s never any time and that there are too many things to do, and too much work and effort that need to be exerted.  I still have things from months ago that I still haven’t caught up to, and that only compounds in my frustration.

I’m like two more obligations away from a Jessie Spano, minus the speed.

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