Expression of Anger.

Why oh why does Gaming Club have to meet three days this week? I feel like I have no self-control. I’m finding it very hard to resist the short-term satisfaction as opposed to struggling for the long-term goal. I know better.

Loralei was being huggy, and I wasn’t quite sure how to tell her that I wasn’t in the mood. In part because I don’t always know how to express myself.

Sitting next to Victoria in between classes, what’s-his-face struck up a conversation with her. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I kept to myself. I had eaten, and decided I should at least look at my sources a little bit. I went through them, trying to determine what was usable and what wasn’t. There was one I was uncertain about. I tried reading, when I started feeling overwhelmed.

I thought of something my old therapist suggested to me. If I’m feeling overwhelmed, stop what I’m doing, identify what’s overwhelming me, and walk away. I felt that I wasn’t understanding everything I was reading, and that I wouldn’t be able to formulate what I know into a paper. Or something to that effect. I got up and left the area to collect myself.

I calmed myself a bit, and reset my plan of attack. I thought about writing down what I already knew, in terms of just writing the damn paper. I reminded myself of that paper I wrote last year for nutrition. The one I thought I did so badly on, but ended up aceing because I’m an awesome writer. “Just write it badly, and get it done, and you’ll feel better. You’ll do just fine.” Things like that.

I retrieved a notebook and started writing.

And promptly ran into another wall. I couldn’t think of anything.

This pissed me off. This got me angry. It’s not like I haven’t been trying. Reading professional articles is a pain in the ass. I wanted to scream, but it’s kind of hard to do that in the middle of the student center. I collected the articles I didn’t need and tried to tear it in half. That was one thick pile of papers. So I went through a couple sheets at a time, priming it with a tear. Then, in one motion, I ripped the entire pile on half, slammed it on the table beside me, and spit on it.

It felt good to get that out of my system. Emotional expression. I hope I didn’t scare Victoria. With the sides she sees of me, I can only imagine what she thinks of me. Makes me think of Cliff. With everything good and bad that he knows about me, I stopped thinking about what he thinks of me years ago. I simply accept that he loves me and accepts me, and otherwise enjoys my company. I can only assume the same from her, until she indicates otherwise.

I just have to make sure the anger doesn’t poison me, that I only let it motivate me and drive me forward. That I use the energy to solve the problem. To do something about it.

I don’t know why I feel like I can’t do anything until my back is against a wall. Though. I do tend to lose motivation as the semester goes on.

I can’t seem to know where to start writing. Victoria suggested writing what I know, and backing it up later. I can’t seem to begin to write that way. Too overwhelming. But I have done some highlighting in some of my sources. I pat myself on the back. What I can do is type up some of the good quotes. That may require assimiliating the sources into a bibliographical format – though I suppose I’ll have to do that anyway.

Struggling is good at this point, any struggling. It’s what everybody does.