Problematic

Good things are like a drug. So are cruel things. I think sometimes I'm just chasing feelings. If it elicits an emotion I want it inside me. Except I guess I've gotten burnt out on a few highs. This new one has a rough come-down. This post therapy fatigue isn't something I was expecting. Everything was great and then my head was pounding and I was irritable and I said things that made people say things and now I'm just down. Just down. I need new friends. Not that there is anything in particular wrong with my old ones- but I need something else. I want something else, anyway. Something more invested. Myex once said that people got tired of him because he was a really needy friend. He really wanted to share and be open and touchy-feely. He'd invest a lot into one person and it became overwhelming. Of course, even when I was that one person I wasn't the only one- but I think I kind of understand the concept better now. I can see how I would be overwhelming f...

2016 SURPRISE~!! Last post was not the last post!! Are you incredibly excited? We get to continue this horrid journey together with no destination in sight?! SO AM I!!! I have had a few epiphanies in the last couple of days that might be swinging me back into a "manic" episode. One of which is that I am tired of my obsessive fucking guilt for doing things that I want to do that I think might make me feel better. The trigger for this has been a few terrible conversations I have had in the past couple of days- which ended in the decision to go to therapy and distance myself from my family for a while. From most people. As though they are the problem... 2017: Things are ever changing, but I come back, always, to a couple of base desires: to be kind, to be happy, to be loved. These are things I have been trying to achieve for the bulk of my 28 years of consciousness and I honestly feel no closer to any of them. Or to anyone. My bed smells slightly of burnt cloth becau...

I don't know what's wrong with me. I was so happy earlier. Preparing for the new year I have to come to terms with the fact that I have ruined everything. I have ruined everything and not-so-slowly isolated myself. I am truly, overwhelmingly, alone. There's no one left to deal with my shit. And what did I expect? I'm not a good person and I do not deserve good things. I think it's time to give up my pen-name. I think maybe I need to let my more extravagant dreams die. This might be my last post. I've never really been able to get a handle on what I wanted out of life, but maybe that's because I'm not the type of person who can have the luxury of desire. Ambition was always internally destructive. This might be the best I can manage until I manage to die. Just being a cog, for the most part reliable, but unlovable. I don't know how many times I can have someone kindly tell me they want the best for me. I don't know how to live up to whatev...

Isis is ready to come home. It's such a simple and innocuous statement, I would never have thought it would weigh so heavily on my heart. I would never have considered that this thought would cause me so much pain. I'm still not sure to what degree and for how long this is supposed to hurt- but I think tomorrow will be my last sequential post on the subject. Tomorrow I go get her. And I am not ready. I still hadn't completely adjusted to her being gone. Although the photos I have of her on my phone have become somewhat cathartic. As has writing about this. I think people are a little disinterested in the fact that I am in mourning for a creature so small, whose life was so short. This is likely a projection. I think I judge myself and the way I spend my energy quite harshly and I assume others are just as unkind. People are probably quite sad for me as well, and understanding that it has been little more than a week since a very prominent presence in my life left abru...

My friends and I have hit a very weird age. We've accepted we are most likely never getting married (except for the one who did, that bitch) and have moved on to the pursuit of being fabulous drag-queens. All I have ever wanted in life is to be a beautiful gay boy in amazingly elaborate costume. RuPaul's Drag Race is our new home. I recognize that this is probably appropriation, but The Lonely Hearts Club Band can't escape who they are any more than anyone else can. My greatest disappointment in life is probably that I will never be as gorgeous and interesting as Sharon Needles. I need this. I need them. "If you can't love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else?" has become my new mantra. Especially since I think I just got ghosted. That's okay, though. My sense of self-worth still relies too heavily on the way I might be perceived by others. It's crippling emotionally and creatively, so I have to let this go. If someone can...

Right now I am coloring my hair- I found Feria Smoky Pastels in Lavender  at H.E.B. and decided to go for it. I have been in the process of creating a grey ombre in my hair but the darker yellow was not taking to the toner. I'm hoping because this is a dye and not toner it will correct that darker yellow and I'll end up with something closer to what I want. We shall see... So while it is developing I have 20 minutes and can conclude the adventure in finding a psychiatrist that I started yesterday: So as depression set back in with Isis found and nothing else to occupy my thoughts I was able to obsess over my upcoming "doctor's" appointment. I tally-ed my flaws over and over (obsessive, sad, generally a terrible jerk incapable of love and being loved) and came up with good arguments for why those flaws probably don't truly exist (isn't it sort of text book to be a tortured artist? how blase- obviously, I have no problems) and I eventually headed over, a...

I feel like I tend to remember to post when I am sick. I currently have a cold- or at the very least a sore throat. Some prone to illness pro-tips: Cepacol is probably the most effective brand of cough drops, but also the worst flavored. Vicks infused Puffs are by far the best tissue. Sprite is a Hispanic staple but Sweet Leaf Mint & Honey Green Tea also feels amazing on your throat when you are dying. I am feeling somewhat better, which has led me to consider that I may be bi-polar. This will be confirmed or denied by my brand new psychiatrist that I get to meet on Tuesday! The whole ordeal of obtaining a psychiatrist has been rather amusing. It started a few weeks ago, when after my visit with my PCP it was decided that I should probably increase my dosage of venlaflaxine. After about a week on double the dosage I ended up having a nervous break-down at work because I'm generally incapable of dealing with my own life. Which, honestly, is probably something I need to f...

Spring break is officially in full swing because I am incredibly hungover. I should not pour my own drinks. Before making my way to Houston last night I did something I have not done since the beginning of this blog; partially out of fear, partially out of laziness. I finally read a few of my posts and, beyond the fact that they were slightly more coherent than I expected, I realized I had unintentionally been capturing a glimpse at my increasing depression. I had assumed I was getting better: writing is supposed to be cathartic, after all. I guess that is an interesting, if not over-done, twist. It's becoming common for the protagonist to realize, shortly after the audience, that they have a bigger problem than they were willing to admit. I suppose, once again, I am following the trend. This brings me to a few soap-boxes. Aside from coming to terms with my current state of mind, I have also taken stock of my niche in the running narratives of life. Everyone has a s...