smothered hope

It's cold in my apartment; this is what happens when you live in a low-rent artist's loft with single-pane windows. We have a few windows with cracks, one with a hole in it, and half the windows only open and close with a great deal of difficulty, which means we usually keep them open until mid-October. Since we haven't finished repainting the loft, the windows have to stay open a few more weeks. The landlords (an ex-hooker and her biker minions) control the heat, which isn't usually turned on until November, and is promptly shut off around the end of March.

That all may sound awful and squalid, but I do love this place. I can see the entirety of the mountain, the city skyline, the stadium, from my living room. In summer, that view includes the International Fireworks Competition. The loft has almost as much square footage as my parents' house. I have nice roommates (who drive me nuts from time to time, but are like family in many ways).

What this is really about, though, is the fact that I still haven't done my class readings. I have PoliSci this afternoon, and I am hopelessly behind in my reading. I probably won't suffer in class too much, but I'd rather be able to keep up the pace. I just couldn't concentrate last night, despite so many valiant efforts.

Ok, no, what this really is all about is the fact that I can feel winter coming and I'm starting to feel really lost and down. I'm having all of those "am I doing the right thing with my life" doubts, which scare the bejeezus out of me, and take my mind away from important things, like studying and planning.

I'm worried about so many other things, as well, and they're just making a mess out of my brain lately. I haven't got a single person to talk to about these things. Which is to say, I don't want to burden anyone with it, and I feel uncomfortable or uncertain about discussing certain aspects with certain people; I could conceivably talk to person X about one thing, person Y about another, person Z about yet another, and so on, but that just makes me feel all the less centered and ultimately more stressed. I looked up counselling at my school, but apparently, you only get ten sessions before being shipped off to public resources (overcrowded, costly [well, costly for those of us with no dosh], and not always effective). I'm not into spilling my guts online so much anymore, so that's out. I feel like a time bomb. When I say I'm sick of behaving stoically, it's the keeping in what's bothering me, the smiling, the telling people I "can't complain" when they ask how things are, which I refer to. My problems are smaller than some peoples', bigger than others'. That's the way life works. When you feel like shit, you feel like shit. You can hold it in or express it, but whatever the cause, you have to deal with it. And shit isn't getting dealt with over here. It's sitting inside me, waiting in line with the rest of the priorities.

I have to study, I have to pay bills, I have to get my loan, I have to work shit out in my personal life, I have to plan what I'll be doing next semester, I have to figure out what I'll be eating today... I'm tired of doing this alone, but I really can't ask for help. I'm not capable, and I'm not willing to be vulnerable to anyone right now. It fucking sucks to feel like this. I want independence, I want inner strength, I want to persevere, and most of all, I want to succeed. I want to WIN.

back | forth

listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)

previously on Smothered Hope:

unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08