This still isn’t over.

It’s frustrating to be me. It was one thing when I wasn’t aware of all of this. But it’s another now, watching it happen. I’m aware of the negativity, and I’m aware I can’t directly stop it. Relatively speaking. This isn’t one of those times where I catch it and immediately do something about it. More like catching it and realizing, “Great. Here we go again.”

It doesn’t feel right forcing myself to say things I don’t believe. I hate forced positivism, even if it’s effective. I feel there’s some benefit to just feeling how I feel. Repression just exacerbates the process. To feel it, to dwell a little, to mull over it, to tease it apart and see where it goes.

I feel like I’m near my breaking point. There’s a group project for Kinesiology I haven’t been able to make myself do. I was in the library on Monday and Tuesday, and I just felt like utter crap. I, at least, read the article I had gotten. I hate writing for other people. It’s such bullshit. I just don’t care.

It’s frustrating because I know a lot of what I can potentially say can be misperceived. In addition to this project, we have to do a presentation. My immediate reaction was, “Oh god, there is no wan I can do this.” It’s not rational, it’s not thought out, it’s not dramatic, it’s just a raw feeling. It’s almost entertaining when I vocalized it, because the response was so typical. I get told I can. If you know anything about me, in that mood, my immediate response is to deny that it’s possible for me to do it, and mull further in my own ineptitude. If I were to actually explain, “No, I don’t really believe that, but I sure as hell feel that way,” well.

As always, I feel kind of unreachable a lot of the time. At least, that’s how I feel. I know that the average college student has the IQ of a gerbil, and it would take longer than the average attention span to actually articulate my psychological struggles (all of which goes beyond the scope of this mere writing). But I also know a few souls out there who can recognize when I’m saying what I feel, and not what I think.

Is it obvious I’m talking in past tense because the mood as passed and I’m trying to sort out in my head how this works? Yeah, I calmed down. Almost wish I came and ranted first rather than force-fed myself. I’m really powerful when I’m emotional. Like, GRAWR, I AM THE RAWR BILE OF TIMMY’S EMOTIONS. ..Ew. I’ll try to stick to semen next time.

I’ve stated that part of the reason I used to write in such a motivating fashion (if that makes any sense) was in the hopes that I’d somehow write something that could inspire me in the future. But who the hell can remember an entire book? All we remember are symbols, short phrases. Themes. Mottos.

Was it last semester? Might have been. Last semester, I noticed I wasn’t trying as hard. I could have done better if I just applied myself. So, my goal for this semester was to try. It’s a novel thing, no? Most people do it without really giving themselves credit, but for me, it’s something I have to take notice of, and promptly give myself a handjob.

Similarly, I’ve been reminding myself to not give up. It’s not something who hasn’t been down that road can understand. I’ve given up on myself before. It’s not pretty, and it’s not fun. I’ve hit rock bottom, when I had a choice between taking a stand, and giving up on myself as a person. I don’t think too many people will ever experience what I have. And like it or not, I draw upon it a lot. I know the alternatives. I know what happens when I collapse, what could have happened if I didn’t pull myself together. And. I know I’m capable of anything. I didn’t pull myself out of that hole to dry out in the sun.

Actual motivation doesn’t seem to come from rah rah chants. Watching Rocky trailers may work for workouts, but it’s too melodramatic. And I love being melodramatic. I do a great movie preview voice. Thinking of an all-or-nothing situation just makes me feel more nervous. You know, building it up to be more than it is.

Though. Sometimes it is helpful to remind myself how I got here.

But I think, ultimately… The fear, the doubt, the negativity, are all a way of avoidance. It’s not as simple as just facing it and getting it over with. But it is.

It’s a roundabout approach. That’s always the way it is with me, it seems. I have to put myself through so much shit when all I needed to do was move one step sideways, rather than run around in a circle.

I felt like I was close to articulating how I can overcome all this, but I suppose it’s not that time. I’m certainly not afraid to be incoherent.

There’s a lot of noise in my head. I’ve had a really hard time sleeping these past few weeks. Sometimes I can’t turn it off. But sometimes, if I’m pushed against a wall, the noise disappears for a moment, and everything becomes clear. It’s not about how hard you can hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward.. Or, even better, I was talking to Cliff yesterday about a video game he was trying to beat. He said he’s lost to this particular level countless times. I pointed out he only needs to beat it once. At the very least, I’m getting better at not fixating on all the times I’ve just felt like total crap and have been unable to do anything about it.

It’s been a shitty semester. I may feel like I’m falling apart, but I can still make it as long as I don’t give up on myself. I have no grand motivating conclusion. I have a lot of shit to do in all my classes. And I still don’t know how I’m going to do it.

Standing up and facing things sounds like such a bold proposition in print, but it’s never quite like that. It’s more like having been beaten down and finding the will to crawl. We shall see what will happen.

By the way, one of my running theories for the continued sexual emphasis is because it cheers me up. GENITALS = FUN! How can Big Floppy Donkey Dick not make someone smile? And if I talk about nothing but genitals in conversation, oh man, I’m depressed. As for when I’m happy and continue to talk about balls? Oh. Um. I’m a perv, ha ha. I ♥ my balls. IT MAKES ME MORE HAPPY!