46 weeks ago was my last entry.
I looked at and sortof laughed, I guess I really only come here when I'm conflicted.
Number one: I'm not okay right now, it feels good to admit it. Don't ask. I won't tell you.
I'm not entirely too sure why, when I don't want to talk to anyone, I'm writing this somewhere that is pseudo-public. I guess Microsoft World just didn't seem like the right medium to express anything besides essays, papers, and other school related subjects. I used to write in here almost daily, so why not continue a once beloved tradition?
Things that are helping:
Listening to classical music rather loudly
Getting caught up in what I'm studying/researching
Convincing myself that my phone will eventually ring. Actually, scratch that one, that's where my troubles are manifesting themselves from.
I don't know, I had big ideas while I was walking back from class about what I would write, but all that seems to have slipped away.
I'm no magician, I can't shrink miles, space, or time.
I know it hurts, it hurts me more than you know.
But I refuse to spend one more semester hating it here because of you. I finally, finally, finally, finally have made peace with this situation, and now you've torn all of that apart and I'm feeling as though I would much rather be experiencing first semester's frustrations rather than this gut renching feeling. I've always had a hard time getting seriously attached to anything, and I guess somehow, somewhere in my subconcious Alex knew. Okay, I have to stop, this was supposed to help, but all I'm doing is pouring salt into open wounds.
I'm not myself right now, that's what I hate most of all. I hardly eat, and food has always been a source of stability for me, as long as I'm hungry, I'm okay. I cannot remove this quesy uneasy feeling that sits in my stomach. Whose fault is this, mine? Maybe I'm taking this all to seriously but I just can't seem to convince myself otherwise.
The past three days have gone as follows:
Wake up, okay, everything is all right.
Lay there, it sinks in, my hunger is dissolved into quesiness.
My thoughts go as follows: "Fuck, I have so much to do today," "Fuck, I can't get myself to focus today," "Fuck this, I'm better than all of this."
Walk to class, thank god it's cold. It stings it all away.
Sit in class, pay attention and block it all out.
Come back from class, and god forbid I spend two minutes sitting. I fall back into this inconvievable anguish.
Somehow, I'm not quite sure yet, I get out, walk somewhere else, put on the classical music and get lost in what I'm doing.
Pray to god that I've exhausted myself enough that when it comes time to sleep, I'll be too tired to stay awake much longer.
Is everyday a little easier, maybe? Do I want them to get easier? Who knows?
These next two weeks couldn't pass quickly enough, or then again maybe they'll pass all too quickly. I sure as hell can't tell you.
It's all so wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong and wrong.
So today I've spent my two mintues constructively, as do I plan to spend these two mintues everyday from now on.
So I'm off to get lost in some paper, after I'll probably study the anatomy of the cell. And I can't freaking wait, it's going to be so good to get lost in something.
I'll go to starbucks and get a caffeine high, the only high I can afford lately.
Still, I can't decide if during the next two weeks things will improve, or as it approaches things will become substantially worse.
Not knowing is the hardest.
I'm here, I'm waiting.