Life = Shit, or Shit = Life?

Do you ever get in those moods where you just realize that, ...everything you seem to touch in life....turns to shit?

Maybe I'm just reeling from the after effects of having had a hard Saturday-Wednesday, and my emotions are at a high. I'm not sure.

Last night, I went in to work. And, some things that don't please me have occured. And it's set me in this mental journey I'm currently taking in the early portion of the day, when I really should just be sleeping.

When do you know whether life has become a product of who you are, or if you have become a product of life?


Am I angry because I feel my life is shitty, or is my life shitty...because I'm angry?


I'm in one of those moods where I'm reflecting on everything.

I feel like,... I'm stuck somewhere. Unable to really go forward and backward because I'm too busy being upset at where I am, to even think about a solution.

I feel like, (per usual) work has shat upon me. It's become less of a "what did they do this time" and more of a "why dont I learn that the right thing, is never going to be done."
People work shifts they shouldn't because they're in with the right guy. Or because they're in with the guy who is in with the right guy. All the while, I kinda sit there working horrible hours. Basically told in an unspoken way "you're pretty much the last guy on the list. but..we love you".
All the while, according the good ol' seniority rule....I should be working Thursday. Friday. Saturday. and Sunday nights. (at least).
Alas, that is not the case, and I'm learning that the right thing, is also the only thing that does not, can not, and will not happen.

It makes you miserable. You walk into work and yer like "oh....yep. Utterly unappreciated....oh well...lets smile anyway!"
I'm not that way. I'm not the "push yer cares aside and put on a happy face" kinda guy. My cares show in my face. And, right now I wouldn't call much about them happy.
It's a good ol' "you scratch my back, I scratch yours" concept. Only it feels more like a "You claw my eyes out, and I blog about my discontent".

I love my job. I love my coworkers, etc.
But I do not love the bullshit politics that are at play. It's a game that shouldn't be played. And it's at the expense of my morale. My feelings.
Though, from day one those haven't been a major consideration anyway. So, why should I be surprised?

--
I miss my friends. Or whatever they are now.
I feel worlds apart from everyone. They're off enjoying the high road through the nose, and I sit alone. I don't talk to anyone, I don't hang out with them.
Have we grown up, and apart so much that our existence is no longer in unison?

And, whose shoulders does the blame fall on.
Did I abandon them, when I fell in love?
Did I put my desire to feel that, ahead of our friendship? And, after having been in my own world.....turned to look back and find them gone?
I'm not sure.

I live with my boyfriend. I love my boyfriend. I love him on levels that are completely different than anything I've experienced. I learn each day. I change everyday. I become a different person....everyday.
But I miss having those people that used to know who I was.
I miss having the random pointless conversations. I miss talking with one another...wondering if we were always gonna be alone.....or if our cats would eat our fingers or toes first.

Now that I'm in a relationship...I find that now I miss the things that I had, when I thought I had nothing.

Maybe I'm never content. Maybe I need my cake, and ice cream and candy, and french fries, and triple mocha coffee colada, and be able to eat it all too.


I've been down on myself lately. I've always kinda been this way. (no kindas about it...I've always been critical of myself in an overly critical way)
I guess I associate struggle with failure. And, I always seem to struggle..So I always seem to fail.
Then I get thinking...I...AM a failure.

People never want to hear you say that. They think yer being over dramatic, or seeking attention...or not giving yourself credit. Or whatever.
But, the fact is...I've failed either now, or at some point, in every aspect of my life.
It could be said that...everyone goes through that. It's a part of life and "what really matters is that you grow from that and blah blah fucking motherfucking blah"

I haven't grown from anything. Except one smaller failure into one slightly bigger, and then slightly bigger. And so on.

I look at the things that matter most to me.


Love.
I'm in love. And I'm loved. But, I'm pretty much the hardest person to love, in the entire world. Aside from someone who chops up his own family members and then eats them. I'm erratic, neurotic, psychotic, paranoid, and ...everything relatable.
I make things difficult, I take the hard road.
I dwell on things so much, that I take one small thing, and convince myself its a small thing in wave of a bigger thing. I travel down mental roads of possibilities that I create in my brain...and then I act upon them...as if it's not all just me predicting something thats happened or gonna happen, beforehand.
I crucify people.
I say I forgive and I forget. But, I'm not so sure I really know how to do either of the two.
I constantly expect the worst. And, when you're always looking over your shoulder for something bad, you're never really lookin forward and whats good.
I'm so worried about getting hurt again, that I end up causing hurt.
And I hate myself for it.
I hate the way I am.The way I think. The way I react.
I wish I was different. Anything. Anyone.
Just not the me I am.

Writing:
It's all I want. To make a name for myself based upon the words that come out of me.
It's what I want to do for fun, and for work. It makes me happy, it makes me sad. It inspires me.
It's the only way I've ever found, that I can use that makes a mark on this world. It's the only thing I've ever felt powerful through.
Yet, I sit on silent paragraphs.
I spend time talking about writing. But none actually doing so.
Maybe that's why I feel so ....unaccomplished.
The only thing I've ever really felt good at.....I'm not doing.
I haven't been able to...I've been blocked. Maybe I'm just blocking myself subconciously. I don't know.
But when your creativity is your sword. And yer suddenly with bare hands....you become a lost soldier in a world of wars.
I've lost something. I don't know how to regain it.

Money:
(I have none) (or...not enough)


I go through these horrible onslaughts towards myself. I get so angry with myself, that it turns into shame. And...sadness.
I start hating myself, then I get sad that I feel so badly about myself.

I know, that somewhere, deep down...I'm probably a good person. I'm probably not the worlds' enemy. And I'm probably not the biggest failure in the world.
I know, that..I'm probably not as ugly as I think I am.
I know, that someone probably loves me more than I tell myself they do.
I know, that people probably care about me, more than it seems.

I know, that I'm probably more talented than I'll ever give myself credit for.

But theres days like today, when I just want to agree with myself. I want to say "yes....you are a giant screw up. And you always will be...now get drunk and dont stop drinking until you're so drunk that you
re huddled in a corner somewhere, balling your eyes out...snot drippin everywhere... having lost your phone, broke your glasses, made a general ass of yourself, then you freak out, start throwing things...bruise yerself all up, then start telling everyone that you want to die....wake up with a giant hangover and realize what a giant douchebag yer being..and snap the fuck out of it, asshole."

Sometimes, I get overwhelmed with negativity.
I'm in major need of something good.
Something to make me feel important.

I want to feel.... like I bring something good.
Instead of always feelings like someone who does nothing but fuck everything up.