I think I’m allergic to life. For apparently no reason sometimes, I will sneeze for about two minutes straight, which usually ends up being 10-20 sneezes. Right now is one of those times, and now my eyes are getting all puffy. Fuck my dusty life.
While Elana seems to be Miss Bright-and-Bubbly-High-on-Life, I am here wondering actually how far down the drain my mental health has gone at this point. Some days I wonder if I should be hospitalized for the severity of my mental sickness. Other days I feel paranoid and frightened that someone will discover that I am crazy and will send me somewhere. Because sometimes I truly do believe I have lost it all. I’ve been considering for a while — “a while” being the past few weeks — explaining fully to someone the way I’m seeing the world now. But I haven’t even been able to bring it up to my therapist yet. It is a rather paranoid view of life and probably sounds like the thoughts that would come from an institutionalized crazy person. So I’ll be keeping that to myself for a bit.
I try hard to see beauty even in the darkest of times though. I try to appreciate the delicacy of a budding flower. I try to admire the determination and strength of a tiny little ant. I try to enjoy the sunshine that manages to shine through the rainclouds.
Same days are better, some days aren’t.
I’ve been trying to distract myself from life by helping my friend out with costumes for a student theatre group doing Children of Eden. I’ve been sewing up pieces for costumes that will be shown off on stage in a week or two. It’s a good activity to pass the time quickly, and it helps me feel productive in ways that I actually want to be. I’ll be glad to see the show, since I wasn’t able to see the first show (I Dream of Chang and Eng) that I worked on as costume crew. It will be especially nice to see the costumes in action and be able to say, “Hey, I made that tunic,” or “I hemmed those pants.” I get to do something creative when I feel like I’m being oppressed.
Recently I’ve been listening to this song “Her Morning Elegance” by Oren Lavie. It expresses the way I feel pretty explicitly, so much that I feel like it’s about me secretly. Well, whether it’s about me or the next person, it’s a beautiful song with a great video.
Elana, I’m a little confused about the title of your last post “Happiness is a Warm Gun.” It seemed contradictory to the actual meaning of your post, which to me oozed joy. Unless that was the point? To be paradoxical? Either way, I’m not sure I get it.
I guess that’s all for now. I neeeeed to work out. I’m so sick of squeezing my fat in mirror, wondering where the skinniness of my youth went.