maybe if I fall asleep I won't breathe right

So I had an anxiety attack last night in bed.  It's kind of weird when you have anxiety and asthma because who knows which one is the reason you're not breathing right?  But yeah.  I got up out of bed and used my inhaler, which didn't help at all.  Then I kind of realized what was actually happening.  I should have known something was up because I was just entirely too pent up and wide awake, and before I went to bed I was slightly upset and worried about a couple of different things and then for some reason I was trying to take my own pulse but I couldn't get it and I had convince myself that I wasn't dead.  Like that sounds so irrational now, and I even know it was irrational at the time, but still?  But I was past that and I went to bed, but I just couldn't sleep.  My body wasn't ready to relax.  So I was listening to podcasts hoping it would help ease me off to sleep, but it didn't.  After I woke up and took my inhaler, I went to the bathroom and then I came and got on my computer to try and find something online to help me calm down.  But I didn't want to sit in my chair for some reason, so I was on my knees in front of my desk looking at stuff and then I just started crying.  After a while I did calm down and feel better(ish) so I went back to bed and I even eventually fell asleep.  I still feel a little off this morning though.  *sigh*  It's not fun being a train wreck.

Nine days to go

I can't think of a single reason to keep doing this.  NaNo, I mean.  Well, everything tbh.  It's just all so much.  I have literally no responsibilities and nothing going on in my life, and some how it's too much.  The pressure is so high.  I just want to fast forward until like... I don't know when.  A decade from now, maybe.  Twenty years.  I'd settle for December 1st, though.  But that isn't going to happen.  I'm not going to be any better of a writer or any less fail of a human being then either, so I may as well just deal with it now.  I'm behind by a little over a thousand words... that's not even that much, really.  And it just feels impossible.  It feels like there's no way I'll be able to catch up today or tomorrow or any time soon and it's pointless to even try.  I can't get that word "pointless" out of my head nowadays... it's how I feel about everything.  And I really hate myself for being such a negative, crybaby, trashcan of a person.

punching that clock

My life is settling into a very simple routine.  I get when I get up (I haven't quite regulated that) and then I have coffee.  I give O'Malley his urinary tract wellness supplement along with treats for him and the other cats.  I go and check my messages on facebook and tumblr.  I bail water out of the leaky sink every three hours.  I clean the cat boxes every day at three.  I drink a bottle of water at noon, four, eight, and midnight (because I'm trying to stay hydrated and it's hard in the winter).  In between those times, I try to write.  When I'm not doing that, I'm wasting time on tumblr and/or Flight Rising.  I have at least one meal a day (dinner) and I feed the animals before I eat.  If I'm lucky I leave the house once a week.

It's terribly repetitive and dull.  But hey, I'm getting by.  That's pretty good for me.

The writing is going... okay.  Sometimes I'm so fired up about this story and I feel like I can do it and I have all these ideas and they all seem perfect.  Other times I don't want to do it at all.  Every word feels stale.  The whole thing feels flavorless and devoid of any skill whatsoever.  But you say that to anyone and it's like, "well, you've got NaNo blues" so you don't even get to feel like your angst is special.  Writing isn't for the faint of heart, yet here I am, and I don't know how to explain that.

It doesn't take much

to set me off to feeling like absolute crap.  I'm just feeling so small and inconsequential and like I'm just such a bad person.  The worst person.  And I don't know how to chase those feeling away anymore.  The constructive things don't work and the self-destructive things don't work either.  So what do I do?  What are my options now?

Why am I such garbage?

I don't even know anymore.

words, words, words

Today wasn't a terrible day.  I mean, it wasn't like an award winning great day, but I survived.  And yeah, sometimes that's all I can ask.  Sometimes I think my lack of motivation is the reason I'm still alive, so I should probably be thankful for that.

I'm starting to feel a little better about what I'm writing.  The whole opening chapter, I'm pretty sure, is garbage.  I'm not going to be able to use that if I decide to post this story.  But I guess the question Future Bre will be faced with is whether she should rewrite that whole bit or leave it out entirely.  I'm worried the story wouldn't make sense without it, but I also kinda feel like it would.  Like, all of the BS exposition in that first chapter could be peppered throughout the rest of the story (or, in some cases, left out entirely, to be honest... to the betterment of the piece).  But I don't know.  But yeah... I am much more confident in what I wrote after that.  Sure, it needs a lot of polishing, but it's better than how it all began.

But I'm a lazy ass with no motivation so I haven't written a damn word today.  Hence my desire to make a post on this blog that no one reads rather than being productive and actually getting to work.  You see, this is why I fail so much and why I've gotten literally nowhere in life.

Fuuuck, I was trying to be positive, wasn't I?

Okay.  Well.  As I said, I'm more confident in what I've been writing.  The second chapter actually turned out pretty good, I think.  I'm on the third chapter now, and though I'm still near the beginning, this one might be all right too.  And I'm not behind... I need to do today's to stay current, but I'm not behind yet.  So bully for me, honestly.  The way I've been feeling, it is actually a pretty fucking big accomplishment that I've stayed on task for five days.  Good for me.

*mashes keyboard and hopes for words*

NaNoWriMo has begun.  It's the second day and I'm already rethinking the decision to do this and feeling like I'm struggling to keep up.  Plus I'm also working really hard to seem as though I'm excited about this and what I'm doing and blah blah blah.

It doesn't matter.

I could literally write the word "blah" 50,000 times and it would be just as valuable as what I am writing.  I would feel just as fulfilled as I feel now.

What is wrong with me?

I ask if I didn't know.