AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

There are so many things that I feel like are chains across my shoulders attached to weights sinking into the sea. And this constant state of pain blurs my consciousness like a blanket of sand that despite all my digging continues to fill on top of me. That is how I feel; [I am] sinking into an abyss of sea and sand. The terrible thing is, is that while everyday I claw and I thrash and I gulp at the air, no one can tell. I am tired of people coming at me with their desires, looking at me with lust, or snubbing me out of envy. I am nothing anyone should want, and most certainly nothing to envy; and that this is not obvious or even perceived by anyone makes me realize how shallow my world is. The sad thing is that people are always trying to be skinnier, fitter, or more attractive; when you are skinny, fit, and attractive, you realize that its not a bevy of wonders that you have obtained but a curse. There is a point where you turn from something tangible into the witches mirror. Peoples interest in you is no longer in how you relate to them but in how you reflect on them. Does being with you feed the ego? Do they think themselves better if they've gotten with you? Or are they insecure around you, for fear that they are not whichever better than you they want to be. I remember college, and people wanting to be around me, its strange that when so many women seem consumed by losing weight, I miss what I was 20lbs ago... visible.

2 years into counting

I remember thinking, when I turned 25, that this is my "quarterlife." 2 years later I feel like the past 2 years have just passed me by. I think I've had my head down, trudging forward, as if pulling something heavy, perhaps myself, through this. I'm looking around now, I can see that I am older. But I think I may just be pulling myself on a treadmill, the ground beneath me spinning at whatever rate I walk, so that the scenery is always the same. I am so tired of this, yet there is no where I want to go. My family is up in arms, or rather their arms are up and crossed across their bodies, with the indignation and anger that I just won't pick something and go back to school. Go back to school? I try and explain that school connotes a tightrope walk with no safety harness and no net; a harrowing, horrible process through which I suffer and sweat. There is no grace when fear of death shows on the performers face. I pretended not to flounder through college, the whole experience felt like I was moments from my last breath. Months after graduating I would wake up in the middle of the night to escape the dream where I never finished my thesis. Academic work was like a black hole that would consume my energy and my time and it always seemed that no matter how much I put into it, it could still consume more.... Now what would motivate me to do something like that? Go back to an experience that brings out the worst of my problems, where I get to beat myself up because I can't seem to overcome a learning disability I don't really understand and add, and make the most of my brain? And on top of that, pay for this wonderful experience. No, I will not... maybe I'll think differently when I pay off the 25,000 that I owe for the degree that got me the job I could have had before college.