Problematic

 I cry, all the time. In the middle of the night when no one is awake to see is the best time. I hate crying in front of Collin. I cry, and I try to think of something else to do but there's nothing that cuts through the exhaustion. I just want to be ok. I just want to be able to do my school work without running out of steam. It's pretty outside and I want to go outside and run...but the call to just lie down is so much stronger. I don't even sleep. I just lie in bed thinking of almost nothing. I saw my psychiatrist today. A new one. She's nice. She seems bright and has good energy. She thanked me for sharing. She really seemed to want to work with me. I just want things to be fixed. I just want to stop being overwhelmed when other people seem to be powering through so well. I want to get back to my writing. And painting. I want to get away from the constant pain and lethargy. I can barely work. I can barely make up the energy to see the few people I'm allowed to s

 It's weird to think of the things we have to "come out" as. Because there's a set of defaults. Presumptions are made that you're "normal" and fit neatly into the categories people are supposed to have fit neatly into since people became a thing.  Of course, there never has been a neat set. There are always "outliers", but should they really be considered outliers if they were truly part of the standard the whole time? Being gay isn't new. It was a default. Just something that had to be kept in secret. This isn't me coming out as being gay, bisexual, pansexual or transgender. I'd rather be considered non-binary, but this isn't about that either. I've been watching I May Destroy You and recently finished a great documentary called Audrey and Daisy. So this is me coming out as someone who has been sexually assaulted. Which is a very normal thing, that shouldn't be a very normal thing. What else is there to come out as? Doe

 We saw Cabaret for the first time this weekend. Sort of spur of the moment over two nights because I started it at like 1am on Saturday and neither of us could push through the oddity for two straight hours. I'm not sure I really got the point, but I do now want to go as Sally Bowles for Halloween, so that's something, right? It reminded me a little of Breakfast at Tiffany's but sadder and with more Nazis. I think it's just really hard for me to take a piece of art with a selfish girl who dreams of being more but just can't let herself be loved and do anything more than go "OMG SO ME" in the most millennial way possible. Like the whole time she's flitting around and pretending things are fine and talking things up to make herself seem cooler I'm like #ImBeingAttacked. But I'm not even that good at putting on the interesting enigmatic brave face, I'm so much better at the wide eyed accusations that things were never going to work out anyway

I need to pee. I want to sleep... I am very worried I am developing a tolerance to my Ambien. ------------------------------------------------- Days Later: I'm so tired. I still want to sleep. I'm so greedy for it. I can't get enough of it. Literally. I keep sleeping like 4-6 hours. Unless I manage to get a nap in...which is spotty at best.  I bought "I Don't Want To Die Poor" and I've been going through it kind of slowly. I made it through the first chapter pretty quickly, but I'm just not a great reader anymore. It's very relatable, even though I don't have nearly as much debt and none of mine is private loans. I feel pretty lucky in that. I have also started "I May Destroy You" and I'm a little bothered by how much it reminds me of myself. I can recall fondly the nights I can't recall at all after a certain point, but it's jarring to see someone else blackout. Sometimes it feels like I have so few memories it's pain

I say, "We should get married." to Collin in frequent random intervals. I have a lot of intrusive thoughts and impulses, and between "go stab yourself" and "tell your boyfriend of less than a year you want to marry him" it seems pretty obvious which is okay to give in to. But there's less clean-up involved in telling Collin I want to marry him, so I go with that one anyway. Another impulse I've been giving into a lot is masturbating. I think the world is just grim enough that every day warrants funeral sex. I've heard this is a thing. Pop-culture tells me so and why would pop-culture lie to me about people getting horny around dead people? Pop-culture would never lie to me! Especially about people getting horny around dead people!! The given excuse for this increased libido seems to be something like "wanting to feel alive." I think I'm operating this on a much more basic level of brain functioning in that it's a quick and eas

Today sucks. And it sucks that today sucks because I have been working out every day this week. Which is only 3 days, but that is still more consistent than I had been for a long time. I still made myself go for a 20 minute walk today...but today was largely just sad and sleepy. The president wants to delay the elections. And the world is still full of pandemic and racial injustice and secret police picking up protesters and generally terrible shit. But for a few days I had energy. I was out walking and running. Yesterday I went out twice then played Just Dance while my nerd boyfriend was busy with DnD and couldn't see my secret shame. Then today sucked. Because there's a seemingly increased chance that America is going to become one of those countries where a despot refuses to leave power and this guy is so dumb and so terrible an already flawed country is becoming a laughing stock shithole. And to anyone who would say "Well if you don't like it, fuck you and leave.&q

There's a really bright blinking light at the corner of the desk in the "living room/office space" because Collin is a scientist. A steady, blue heartbeat amongst wires, just under the glow of a red light. It's a very sci-fi looking arrangement in the eerie stillness of 1:30 in the morning. It's something he would normally have unplugged, but he was tired and went to sleep early, so it gets to stay awake with me. It gets to know the world I know. The world that happens when no one unplugs you at midnight. It's not a terribly interesting world. I was watching the latest season of On My Block and that was going really well. I had been skittish about getting started on it because it could be a bit of an emotional roller coaster, or at least season 2 was, and the cliffhanger was so startling I wasn't sure I could handle it with everything else going on. I'm only 4 episodes in, but they have been charming and sweet as they can be, so I feel I was being

I've been writing a lot more for work, which does not mean that my writing has improved in any fashion. It just means my very kind supervisors are paying me for garbage when I'd rather be paid for wasting time and napping. I think we all would. There's not much to do beyond sit with a lack of stimulation, and that doesn't generate very good outcomes. I suppose right now is just a moment that proves who the truly imaginative are, and I am not coming out on top. So, I'm writing more for work because we have a grant proposal to complete because despite my best efforts I can't wish capitalism away and we're all still stuck pretending work matters. Some of it does. And some of it will again. It's probably more prudent to keep going under the premise that what you're doing right now will be sustainable in the future. That is, if you're not inventive enough to come up with something that really will be more sustainable in the future. There's proba

A note from long ago that still has relevance but much less so: Fuck John Bolton...I just can't believe we are living in a world where people are buying books from shitheads that refused to turn on the president when it mattered. They don't deserve attention. They don't deserve money. They should be in jail, if only I didn't believe that we already jailed too many people. Maybe we should fine them. That seems fair. Fuck John Bolton and fuck anyone who buys his book because we already know what's in it- Donald Trump is a fucking cunt and literally the worst. We. All. Already. Know. And. You. Prevented. Change. Notes from a few nights ago- a sleepless time: Sometimes I laugh to myself when I lay topless in bed like I have gotten away with something. As though God would censor me but I have evaded them through my poor scheming. I don't think God would be part of a gender binary, but I do think they would prudishly admonish me for not getting dressed 60% of th

I'm weak and bored. I downloaded Facebook for my phone again. I opened it for a second and decided it was a mistake. I will probably mindlessly browse until I make myself too anxious again later tonight. I'm still in Austin and read, independent of terrible Facebook shares, that you are now three times more likely to get Covid in Austin than two weeks ago. This is insane. I am now feeling more like shutting down all outside activities like going to the grocery store. Today we set up a pick-up order for the first time since this started. We're all supposed to be staying in again until August 15th even though the governor is letting theme parks reopen because we're run by republican idiots. I still can't distract myself with TV. There's nothing I feel I can lose myself in the same way I did the garbage children of Vanderpump Rules. I've also lost access to the most recent Drag Race seasons. I'll need to make a new trial account once All Stars 5 is do

Have you seen Pose? It's so good. It's a great show even when we're not in the middle of Pride Month and celebrating Black artists, but it's perfect in the moment. It's gorgeous. It's devastating. It's uplifting. It reminds us to fight and hope, and sadly, that queer people of color have been fighting and hoping for a very long time. It's one of my favorite shows even though it is pretty hard to binge because of all the feels. And never forget the dancing and costume design. What have I done today? Watched things. Went for a run and worried a little when my right arm got a little numb...but it was 3PM in Texas so I'm lucky I didn't faint considering how out of shape I am. I reminded all my friends how out of shape I am in various group and individual texts. I followed up on the birthday wishes I got yesterday on Facebook because I decided yesterday I was getting too anxious from checking Facebook on my phone so I deleted the app again. Last t

It's my birthday. And it feels like there's no way to celebrate it. People are dying. People have died. In a way that seems much graver than the deaths that used to happen. And I am anxious all the time. I got an e-mail yesterday for a job interview in an ER. I initially misread the e-mail and did not realize that I would be physically in the ER so I was thrilled. Once I started to consider what working in an office where I would undoubtedly be exposed to Covid-19 would mean I became incredibly anxious. More so than normal. Incapable of further functioning. I don't think I'm brave enough for that responsibility. People are doing this right now. People are brave and they are dying. And it feels almost stupid to care when I spend so much time being suicidal that I might get sick and die. It feels unfair to all the people who aren't mentally ill. It feels even less fair to any current healthcare workers that are mentally ill. Everything feels so unfair. A

Why does my boyfriend use so much Spanglish? Why is that a white guy thing? You're not forgetting what the word is in this new language you've learned. It's not the product of growing up first generation American in a Spanish speaking household. Honestly, he intersperses Spanish more often than any Hispanic person I know. These are the things that haunt me in this new and troubling time. My boyfriend is a basic-ass white guy for doing this basic-ass white guy thing. Like, stepping off a curb, double finger guns saying "I'll catch you guys, mañana~" level basic. It's incredibly weird that my furthest relationship has become my closest relationship to a now uncomfortably close degree and I'm so far away from all my formerly incredibly close female relationships. Like, we started a discord channel, but I have no idea what small cultural slights any one of them is committing right now! It's like I don't even know who they are! It's like I

And neither do you. What do I say at the end of the world? Probably start with, "This isn't the end of the world, you're being super dramatic." But I have always had a flair for it, the drama, so it would be silly to stop now that it is a little more understandable. The whole world is just so much drama right now. The year 2020 is the person 6 drinks in, sloshing their next one, and loudly announcing that they are "NOT HERE FOR ANY DRAMA THIS YEAR" before telling off 3 of their friends, stripping down and falling into the pool... no that that is a scene I would have any direct experience in making. Definitely not standing on top of anything. I've been trying for what feels like weeks to come up with something to write. It has technically been a few weeks since things started to get bad in America, and Texas specifically has not been shut down for very long, but it feels like weeks longer than it has been. With like no end in sight. You know thi

Not everyone gets what they deserve. Sometimes people do- sometimes you're in the middle of getting what you deserve, right, and no one knows. People tell me I deserve good things, and I have a hard time reconciling that with my experiences. Does everyone have a hard time hearing they deserve good things? I think the people who truly deserve good things are the people who try. I'm not sure I'm truly a trier. On the outside it appears I am trying because it appears I have a lot going on, but I don't know that this is honestly the case. If I were trying, wouldn't there be some successes somewhere? Are there people who are constantly and earnestly trying who never make any progress? Is that the kind of person I am? If that's the case, shouldn't I then try to reevaluate where things are going wrong and how I can do something I might succeed at? This again seems like advanced level trying that I am not doing. My friends try. They try very hard and they

I have 40 minutes before my discussion section and before the computer lab opens up so that I can print my assignment. So, I will probably be 15 minutes late to an hour long session. Hooray~! I did do this all rather last minute though, so I have only myself to blame. Myself and a system of oppression. I also don't have coffee money. But my boyfriend will be in town tonight and that's a small comfort. A very small comfort, but a comfort none the less. So~ I made promises. Which I followed up on. Then pretty promptly forgot. Actually~ neither of us really seems entirely sure why we started to hang out pretty exclusively all the time. The running theory is that I would hang out at their place at various intervals with his roommates in order to try to make myself a more well-rounded human being. A task I fail at every day, and did not do any better with when I was carrying out these experiments. We believe that when he was in town on the weekends he'd be around w

Glasgow cont./Futile Devices I want to start with something more recent, then we'll skip back. It's a pretty annoying method of story telling that is kind of over-used. I know I'm tired of How To Get Away With Murder using it, although they have no other way of formatting that one- you know, because you gotta start with the murder they're eventually going to get away with. That's not the case here. This is not essential. I just like this moment the best, for all it's cheesy glory. It's the moment that properly convinced me I had every chance of succeeding in wearing Collin down to finally properly dating me. It's a very simple moment: Shortly after I initially reached out to him, after about an 8 year hiatus, one of us mentioned my manic pixie dream girl tendencies. You know I'm sort of annoyingly the type: I worked at a pet store, I sometimes dream of running a quirky bakery, I jump into fountains and generally chase experiences. The biggest i

Everything Reminds Me of Her I am trying to make this our song. Perhaps not our song, so much as a song that reminds him of me. It is a very obvious joke. We are, in retrospect, a very obvious couple. I have a few songs for a few people: I have dedicated C'mere by Interpol more than once to Issa. It accurately described in part the devastation I felt when she married Bren and could no longer be mine alone. Ryan and I have agreed that Too Much by Carly Rae Jepsen is the theme to all our visits together and this is something we relish. Let's Dance to Joy Division by The Wombats is a song for my favorite people from my favorite time that I wasn't clever enough to appreciate in the moment, much as I am not clever enough to appreciate the now...I don't know that this is something I will evolve from. Perhaps I have in a way. I do appreciate this and most other moments with my new-old boyfriend. And it's an unexpectedly unique feeling. Shortly after we started