Where did my life go?

Let's be real, my life didn't abandon me. I abandoned my life.

My days are spent repressing everything wrong with my life. It's like I'm sitting in a dumpster with my eyes shut pretending like everything around me is perfectly fine. My mind stays oblivious, but I feel it. It comes and goes. When I'm engrossed in a good show or movie, I don't notice. It's in the empty moments that I sense the overwhelming feeling of despair. It's similar to when you know something bad is about to happen, and the anxiety of what comes next is upon you. I'm stuck in that feeling, like limbo. 

I think that maybe I need to open my eyes and take it all in, but to be honest, I'm not sure how to do that. Maybe I don't know how to face it. Perhaps I just haven't stopped long enough to think about everything that has gone wrong. It feels like every moment that I even attempt to, the anxiety becomes sharper suddenly, and I stop. In my head, I'm scared stiff. My thoughts and concentration may be stagnated by it and it can easily be a portion of what's dragging down my entire life. 

Maybe I just need to cry it out, though the idea is a bit funny to me. I haven't cried in a very long time now. Despite that, I find that I've been on the edge of tears the last couple of weeks at the most random times. I've just bottled too much stuff up over time and sacrificed too much to keep those feelings in. If I were to guess what it all boils down to, it's that I don't know how to deal or express emotion. At times when I become frustrated or angry, I also become confused because I don't know what to do with all of the emotion. This causes me to act in a bad fashion - either repressing it, or lashing out, or even breaking down in tears on rare occasion.

I disdain the use of prescription drugs, in general, but maybe it's time I withdraw all assumptions and standards and get professional help. Not sure, really. That type of thing costs money that I don't have. All I know for certain is that plenty of people would have killed themselves long before now. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. That's a depressing line of thought. Moving on.

So my checklist: Read, write, exercise, make my bed. So I did write (blog post) and I  made my bed. That was it, a whopping two out of four. Great fucking job, idiot. In my defense, as far as exercising goes, I already started doing that a few days ago and was sore from the previous workout. Still, should've gone for a jog now that I think about it.

As far as reading goes, I sat next to a book for most of the day. Does that count? Lame, right?

Day 2

1. Read - Do it right this time.
2. Write - check.
3. Exercise - pushups and squats ftw
4. Make Bed - right after I click publish.
5. Sketch - I feel like drawing will help my brain as well. I think I read that somewhere on the internet so it must be true.

Fingers crossed.