NaNo Hell

So I'm writing NaNo, as I do.  It's really a lot.  Really fucking extra.  What happens is that I write a lot because I have to and still feel like I'm not doing enough.  I complain about how much work it is, and then those around me guilt me for not taking it on the chin -- after all, I did sign up for it.  The experience overall does help one grow as a writer.  It's valuable and sometimes a very good project comes out of it... or at least the first draft for something that could become good.  However, it's still hell.  It's still a lot of work and a lot mental energy gets expended.  And I'll complain about it.  I'm sure I'm annoying... but there we are.  That's what I do.

Is it just me or is it harder to talk to people when you're really lonely?  i just like... I don't know... I wish I had more friends and people who really, really wanted to talk to me and be with me, but I suck at talking to people so I can't make friends.

God, all I do is whine.  I'm really sorry if you are for some reason reading this blog.

dffghjknm

Sometimes in life you cling to whatever little bit of happiness you can find.  Sometimes the happiness is purely superficial, and you feel bad about it, but you're so desperate to feel something that's good.  But then the thing goes away, and you're left with nothing again and it gets worse and worse and you feel worse and worse (even though you already felt pretty bad) and there's nothing to be happy about so you don't want to go on.

I don't get that thing anymore.  I don't want to go on.

feelings

Sometimes when you don't feel good, people will try to cheer you up.  Sometimes this works, if even just because it's nice to know others are concerned.  But sometimes it makes you feel worse... you're mad at yourself because some kind person is trying to help you but you're just being ungrateful for that.  That's how you feel.  You feel like there's something wrong with you because you're not being cheered up by their kindness... like if it helps others, it should help you too... but because it doesn't, you're broken.  You must be.  And people say nice things -- kind and generous words that make you smile and/or blush -- but as much as you know these people care about you, you can't believe it.  Like part of you knows it's true but you won't believe it anyways.  Our brains are so unkind to us... mine treats me like shit.  And I'm tired of it and I hate it.

I want it to stop.  All of it.  It's too much.  I'm so fucking tired.  I want out.

I am so tired of not being okay.  Like, it's honestly exhausting.  I'm tired of it, and the people around me are tired of it... and me.  Maybe I need new people... but how, with social anxiety, could i hope to meet them, lol.  I'm feeling so sorry for myself right now and it's in no way attractive, but there we are.  I'm trying to pull myself up by my bootstraps or however the saying goes but I just... would rather... idk, die.

Creation

I used to like to cook and bake.  I used to like to craft... to make things out of other things.  Writing used to come really easy.  There was a time, that I was very into creating things, and I was good at it.  Nowadays, doing any of those things takes A LOT out of me, and some days it feels impossible.  I want to get back to when I used to be able to derive enjoyment from those things.  I really do.