purging

2/20/18 sometimes i don't know what to do with myself. there is this constant feeling that i am supposed to be doing something. and even when i determine i should do nothing, that sense that i should be using my time other ways. like just resting isn't okay. it's tied to this idea of laziness, which i really have to wonder about. the history of laziness. seems to me the only people who do nothing...well i've never met them.

so i like the idea that we assign meaning to our lives and the things we do. probably because i do believe it's all meaningless--that there is no single reason for all of life. and yeah, there's something divine about it all. but...i get angry where i see how things have been put into place, and how i thought i would be able to have a job that allowed me to pay bills including loan repayment, and groceries. to feed and care for 2 cats in a 50 sq ft apartment with well water (one less bill, except the electricity it takes to run it). i thought i would be more financially stable by now. but i'm not. and it really gets to me. having to explain i work full-time hours, but don't get paid for all of them. that yes i can apply for a full-time position eventually, but that there was no guarantee i would get it. there's the implication in trying to get help that there is something more to be done. something that could help. and sometimes i just feel like i need more time. that maybe my pace doesn't fit prescribed behaviors because i'm still trying to figure out a lot that i thought would be figured out by now. i didn't learn about credit in school. i had 2 parents who tried to warn me...and maybe they too suspected i might not land a 60k salary by my thirties. maybe they warned me because they saw how artistic i was and they were trying to prepare me for a life of poverty. because they saw what a struggle it was, and they saw that i didn't want the grind. i saw them suffer through it. argue over money. stress over bills. saving receipts. and i didn't want that. i feel like i believed from a young age that the way the world was set ip didn't make enough sense for how advanced we were supposed to be. all these millenia of humanity, and here we are forcing people into roles that they either magically work well within...or not. and so they spend time trying to reconcile themselves against the ways of the world. trying to understand where they fit in. trying to derive meaning from the suffering they experience and the relentless struggle to thrive. not just to survive.

so i don't know. i keep trying and it never seems good enough. and then i go to sleep, and try again. and sometimes between all the struggle, i feel i've accomplished something. just being isn't enough. i hope that's what retirement is for.

i just want to meditate under a bodhi tree. i just want to transcend the bullshit. i just want to feel comfortable, and be able to focus on doing a good job with the things i've committed to doing. but what i do doesn't earn me enough income to repay the debts i foolishly accrued in my pursuit of comfort. eliminating just a hundred dollars of bills each month still wouldn't leave me with enough.

there isn't enough time.

i need time to work, to rest, to recreate, to meditate, to sleep, to bathe, to feed myself. i need money to do laundry and feed myself. to pay bills. to pay bills. to pay bills.

i give up what i feel are more on the luxury side of self-care for the sake of rest and sleep, which i feel i need because i'm so drained. when i worked out regularly, it didn't make work easier. i still had mood swings, and i still found myself feeling overwhelmed. i just had a little more natural energy. but i didn't have mental more energy. that seems to have a less flexible range.

and i don't have a neighbor to process with anymore. i don't have someone i feel comfortable processing with, because i don't relate to jeff as well as i related to marci. so that isn't the same. i was spoiled--having all that supervision in school and a neighbor i could talk with. now when i reach out to someone, i can't dump on them because i don't have the energy to listen to them. i just want to be heard. oh god, i hate the way that sounds. but that's how i need to be cared for--i need to be heard. and i want to be able to do that for a lot of people. but i also want that for myself. and that's just one piece of the things i need to feel content. to feel stable.

and maybe stability is an illusion. maybe everyone is trying to juggle constantly, and we all fail to recognize how we manage within a system designed to work against us.

either way, it fucking sucks, and it's exhausting, and the amount of time we spend making money should not dominate our existence. i don't know how to break free of the demand to work more, earn more, but i'm trying to at least stay afloat. and doing a decent job, sace the days i dream about never waking up tomorrow.

maybe some day that will change. but all i have is now. and when i'm not worrying about what's going to happen, or how it's going to work out. when i have these little moments of relief from that imagined pressure to do more, be more, earn more, then i'm okay. i'm gravy. and those moments are fleeting, like everything else. i want to sustain the gravy. i want to worry less. but so few things go according to the rules i thought i understood. my career didn't start until my 30s. my jobs didn't support all the things i had to pay for. there was no saving. $$$$$$$$uggghhhhhhhh

alright. imma answer texts and go play games on my phone, try to concentrate on blasting jellies.