Monday, February 10, 2014


This morning I had a good friend graciously point out that in my last post I am being a whiny bitch, that this a public blog anyone can read so I shouldn't be talking shit or complaining about how my remarkably fortunate lifestyle isn't quite total nirvana.

Of course she's right.  And I apologize to the other 3 people reading this blog.  My life is unequivocally better than 99.999% of the world.  It's really unfair just how good I have it.

Writing for me is cathartic, a kind of therapy, but I'm not sure its really intelligent to post my therapy sessions on the internet.  Especially when I want to talk about people who may or may not end up reading this eventually.  I have to figure out the best way to navigate these kinds of issues. A private journal maybe. Meh, fuck it.

I'm 2 doses into my anti-depressants and I can feel the re-calibration occurring in my head.  My appetite is completely shot, I feel a bit queasy and really really spacey, like I haven't slept in days (Even I slept over 12 hours last night).  I keep catching myself staring into space for indeterminable amounts of time or forgetting why I'm in a room or not being able to find the right word thingy that I need for my sentences.  I hate it.  But not really, because I can't find an emotion strong enough to be called 'hate'.  My head feels like I have a minor hang-over but I don't feel any anxiety, I kinda just don't care. About anything.  I don't know, its kind of nice.  I feel like this must be what being stupid must feel like.

Did anyone just read that last sentence?  4 different words twice used in a 12 word sentence.  I can't even tell if it makes sense.  Am I going to be ok publishing this trash?  I don't know, I'll guess I'll give it a few more days