Heaps of Mud.
I'm having an of out of body experience. I don't know who I am, and I am pulsing with anxiety. I haven't been making any money. My bookseller self employment feels unbearable. I am useless at all tasks that I do not want.
I quit drinking on November 7th. I forced myself to take one day off. I didn't try to full-on quit, but I clung desperately to the momentum. A few days in, I started calling it a Quit. It wasn't hard until now. Now it is impossible. This Quit will be forgotten. Just a thing I do sometimes. I have no fucking idea how normal people live.
I am an unbelievably privileged human. I should delete all of this. I would be screaming if I wasn't feeling defeated. Deflated. Furious. Overwhelmed. Alone. Stupid.
I'm not so sure I'm interested in living at the moment. I'm going to continue regardless. Curiosity. Absurdity. Convenience. Hope.
This is some real fucking shit here. All I have is time, and nothing can ever get done. I need a purpose. All of this will blow over, only to return again soon.
I need somebody to make decisions for me. (But I would disagree and resent that.)
I need to remember to shower and eat. (Fuckit I'm not dead.)
Does everybody decide who they are, or is that mostly out of our control? Am I a shapeshifter? Why don't I know who I am? I am a pile of various essences. Why is it getting worse? This is something I would like to articulate better. Are these thoughts important? I almost doubt it. I am actually doubting it matters. One foot in front of the other. Nobody knows anything, and neither do I.
Have my recent times of happiness been a product of alcohol, even when I am not drunk? How awake am I? I have nothing to compare to. I have no idea if my thoughts and feelings are important, or whether they ought to be ignored.
Will everything feel like this in 10, 20, 30, 40 years? Or will I eventually get a grip?
Oh!, the luxury of having the time and privilege for introspection of dubious value....
I wouldn't mind dating or making local friends - but I'm always leaving "soon." Maybe I confuse changes of location with changes that heal the mind. I'm confused about sexual orientations and gender identities, but I'm a close enough fit that I suppose I don't mind. Not my personal battle. Another curiosity to toss on the pile. Pyre.
People shouldn't write these thoughts down in public. I know better, but still feel compelled. I am not even proud of how I am expressing myself here. I should delete this and punch myself right in the face. Instead I will edit the scraps, and probably read it again later on my phone.
A Sprinkle of Water.
1) Most of this is probably, stupidly, money related. I don't know what my strategy is. Do I keep trying to keep the book business afloat? I'd love to jump ship and make money by sewing, but that seems increasingly like a pipe dream. I'd like to get a job helping to construct sheds and outbuildings, but where and when will I do that? Knowing the answer will help.
2) I'm not crazy about Texas, but I haven't been here long, and I brought a hell of a lot of stuff. If I was just living in a van, I might drive away. But I have most of my tools, two vans, and a rented room full of sewing machines and similar stuff. I truly need to figure out what my plan is. Staying or going, and what does that look like?
3) Heath insurance is murdering my savings. Between health insurance and rent, I am hemorrhaging money. I am paying more than I should be for heath insurance, because of past tax issues. The government insists I make more than I do, and I find it very difficult to create a system to prove otherwise. These matters are my Achilles heel. A normal person could manage to deal with this. This is where I start to get very frustrated with myself. And angry at the government for these confounding and confusing and convoluted processes.
4) I feel like I need to simplify further. Even at this capacity, I am overwhelmed. I cannot handle much. I just want to wake up and be alive. I want clarity when it comes to knowing what is expected of me. "Normal people" tasks have always been impossibly hard.