Half

At the moment, my life is in a silent chaos. I can not seem to finish anything I start. My Netflix account says it all. I am greeted by movies and shows I have yet to finish. I don't seem to have the desire or the attention span. Everything is half done. My hair is half combed. My room is half clean. I can only seem to be half awake during my phone conversations. I have fallen asleep on the phone with my friend Curly twice now. I am generally half engaged in life. This is no bueno, seeing that there are things going on that need my full attention. I just don't have it, whatever "it" is. I'm choosing to blame the time and season changes, but I'm only half sure that's even a thing. 

Stressed

Homecoming is over and it is now time to return to the disappointing garbage can fire that is my life. I have officially plunged into Post Traumatic Homecoming Syndrome. That is when I return home and realize, after spending the weekend fraternizing with doctors and pharmacists, that I am a loser. On top of this, I am so sleepy I cannot sleep. I babysat my 2-month-old niece that slept in 15-minute intervals before waking up screaming. I do believe that I am traumatized by my train ride to and from New Orleans. The ride was long, I was beyond uncomfortable, and an old drunk man flashed me his penis which was HORRIBLE! I won't even talk about my never-ending search for good, affordable healthcare.  I am anxious. My nerves are on end. I desire silence and solitude. On top of this, I want to drop my head into a cake. I need a shower. I have therapy tomorrow, thank God. Sleepy. Okay, bye. 

Depressed

I am depressed. 

This really shouldn't be news, because I am pretty sure that I have been functionally depressed my entire life. I remember being so, so sad all the way back in kindergarten and just being told that I was overly sensitive. I remember sitting at the club in college, wanting to cry for seemingly no reason, and being told I was just a drag and a downer. However, this depression feels different. 

I trace this surge in my unhappiess to the beginning of the New Year when I decided to go on this diet. Well, what was supposed to be a positive move to improve my health has plunged me into all day, every day negativitity. And as you have probably guessed, it is not going well. I am pretty sure that I have not lost so much as an ounce. This of course makes me feel like a failure, which is not exactly good for my already plummiting morale. Quite honestly, I am about two seconds from giving up completely. It is too much. It is a trial. And I am not good at trials that are too much. Anyway, I will never be as small as I always dreamed of' anyway; small enough to where a bikini to the grocery store or nab my dream man, so what's the point? Oh, I forgot. Life. 

Wow, I really must be depressed. I don't even feel like whining anymore. Okay then, until next time. 

Stuck on Chill

I am so relaxed right now, like I don't have HELLA stuff I need to be working on.
I am going to be honest. Ever since I got back from Miami, it has been hard for me to focus. I close my eyes and see the beach and palm trees and designer shopping bags. I get put in such a relaxed place that I just want to roll over and chill.
On top of that is this knee thing. Granted, it feels like 90% better, but I have gotten used to not moving because I was in pain.
But the kicker is my beautiful Aunt Flo that came to visit. She has worn me out. Right now, as I type with my index finger, I lie on my side nibbling on a cookie. Every time I inhale too deeply my knee pops, and every time I roll over on my stomach, I fall asleep. I promise you, besides doing a couple of interviews and research for work, I have done nothing, and I feel like I have just run the track a few times.
So I guess that I will savor the rest of the day, for tomorrow, I will be so not chilling. I will be chin deep in work, wishing I was still in Miami.