I’ve been trying to keep busy. I get distracted easily, so it’s been really difficult for me to pin myself to one project or other. I keep starting things. My desire to do anything to better myself is extremely low. My eating habits have been terrible. I think I am just adjusting to a life without strict structure. I’m used to going in and having a plan, telling everyone what’s expected of them, and having a plan even for myself. Now everything is so open and uncertain. Sometimes I wake up too late to do much of anything. My boyfriend suggested that I make a list of what I’d like to do, and that has been working somewhat.
I keep picking things up to read, but now I’m reading five things because I can’t stick to one. I haven’t been doing any art because I am too restless. I’ve been writing mostly, which fortunately has been helping me a lot. I forgot how much I loved it.
I’ve arranged for a week away. The location is far away from everything and everyone. The woods back it endlessly. I’m a little nervous about staying by myself; my paranoia is very severe when I’m alone. I also tend to do things I normally wouldn’t. I’m planning on drinking at the very least. I need to let loose. Some severe vomiting and self-loathing should do me some good. I’ve had no way to vent my frustration over the last six months and I know I’ve hit overload. I think some punishment might help me get rid of it. I feel so pent up with rage that there are times that it feels like that is all I am. I want to have release without judgement. I want to do it without people scolding me for my lack of self-control. If I want to mutilate myself and bleed, it’s my business. I don’t want anyone’s help this time. I just want it to play out how it does so I can get over it. I can’t seem to do it without someone standing in my way. I’m tired of people protecting me; I don’t need to be protected.
I don’t think anyone understands just how much I need this. I am not sane without it. I will lose control of my life if I don’t. I can’t begin a new chapter until I acknowledge what I’ve done and the consequences of how it has played out. I want to be something. I want this plan to work. I want to be a legitimate writer so that I never have to be put in that situation again. But I am so full of self-doubt and anger that it is impossible at this point. I can’t move.
I want to spend those days out in the sun. Heat or rain, I’m going to be out there, exploring. I’ll probably have to go on foot because none of the quads are working very well and I’d rather not bother with gas. It will be better for me to walk anyway. I don’t want to be around anything human for a short time. I’m going to take my phone but try to restrict my usage of it. I’m going to bring all those books I’ve been trying to read and my computer so I can write to my heart’s content. The main reason I am going is to get a good start on either editing my current novel or starting a new one. I still can’t decide if I think the old one is worthwhile. It feels really childish and angry now. I can’t read through it without cringing. I’m too lazy to begin another one though, and I have very few ideas. I did start something else, but I’m not sure where I was going with it.
I’m going to go as soon as a few things play out. Depending on the outcome and how long it takes, will determine when I leave. I’m hoping it will happen in the next few days so I can leave in the middle of next week sometime, but I suppose we’ll see.