Seven months? Seven fucking months?! My life’s in a worse state than I thought. If I’m writing, if I have the motivation to send out these weekly cries in the dark, then it’s usually a sign that my life’s where it should be. And you’ll notice Nevermore hasn’t had any real sense of regularity for several years.

Quite frankly, I should probably never have attempted that Master’s Degree. It disrupted my career, left me in a financial mire and caused me a breakdown that I never had the time to recover from properly. Nearly four years after starting it, I still work a minimum-wage, zero-hour job, and I’m too fragile to spin all the plates I need to to dig myself out of my current mire. A few things have improved for me on the social-life front (and I’m truly blessed to have the friends I do – you guys know who you are) but, by-and-large, I’m in a rut and I’m not sure how to drag myself out of it without ending up in a deeper rut.

I’m not reading. I’m not writing. I’m mostly wasting time doing nothing on the internet because the nothingness of it means I’m not doing something that means I’m feeling guilty about not doing something else. Every time I feel determined to get something done I get paralysed by the feeling of conflicting priorities, overwhelmed by all the things that need doing, and then guilty about some of the things I’m neglecting. And now here I am apparently trying to justify myself to you because I was stupid enough to give you a window into my life in the first place.

Do I tell you about this stuff in real life conversations? No?

Did you think, at any point in all of that diatribe up there, any of the following: Can’t you just organise/prioritise? Can’t you just stop wasting time and at least get a job done? Can’t you at least focus on your mental health as a starter?

No. No. And also, no. I’m sure it sounds so fucking easy from where you’re sitting. Yes, in the first two instances, it’s my mental health holding me back. If I didn’t have to deal with the disorientation caused by an anxiety disorder, I probably wouldn’t have failed my Master’s Degree and probably would have got myself a decent job by now. Unfortunately, a stable job will do a lot more for my sense of well-being than trapping myself for God-knows-how-many more months in my shit wages and long commute while I “get better”.

I’m a mess. I appreciate that. And all I can do for now is devote the little energy I can muster into whatever seems most important at the time. There is no “grit your teeth and get on with it” here. It just doesn’t work like that. Maybe next week I’ll explain a little more deeply.

If I find the time and energy.


~ by Scary Rob on 9 July, 2014.

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