My stomach churns with emotions too foreign to compute and too familiar to bitch about. This is the best I’ve had it in a long while - Finally medicated on something useful (at least for the ADHD), closures and new beginnings, all other things that I should be and am thankful for. But even my healing sutures still bring the occasional pain or distress. I feel is though that’s to be expected with anyone, but to the same magnitude? I missed my night class today - it’s just once a week, no real excuse to miss it - because I made the decision to sleep instead since I was exhausted from the little rest I had the night before. I sit in front of my laptop with my moleskin of daily lists and scrawlings on the side, “Have shit to do, but I feel too sad over next to nothing to do it”. Of course, these situations are obviously more minute, but it’s the same old story: One piles on top of the other, the compile and consolidate, everything becomes a mess, break down. But I can’t - and won’t - let that happen again. This is my last chance to do well in school, and I won’t make excuses or allow myself to be defeated by this “it” - At least I have the knowledge that “it” may have an actual name, and it can be worked on from there.
Last weekend I had the chance to see my favorite band for the first time in two years, and I strangely ache each time I face the realization that It’s already come and gone. The music, all screaming along, enclaved by sweaty, jumping, dancing fools. God, I have too many feelings. God, I’m a terrible writer. But I know what’s in me is worth something.