I had every intention this morning to, right now, be playing my Diablo III starter/demo version, and gleefully lett my mind shut off but for the simple tasks of avoiding and killing monsters, collecting treasure, and enjoying the intricate graphics. Instead, it seems that the gods have a different plan; one way or another, I couldn't get the blasted game to connect to the internet (a requirement) where I was, so instead I'm on a bus (with no internet at all) grumpily moving one step closer to my eventual destination today at the dentist's office. Meanwhile I'll try D3 again at my university, which is between here and the dentist's.
But here I am, with eff all to do for twenty minutes. Well, not really; I've been to my first four classes for this term, and now know about all my assignments from now 'til December. (Forgive any overuse of swearing; I'm already leaving out a lot of 'goddamn's.) I will never, between now and May, really be able to claim that I have nothing to do. I love (not) how unless a person is paying their own way through university and has the money up front to buy their textbookss a week before class starts, we all automatically start a week behind on readings... As an OSAP (Ontario Student Assistance Program) student, my book money might not be here for another two weeks, putting me even further behind. I'd love to be that great student who's read all the required material ahead of time, but it's just not financially feasible.
Why, you may be asking, is this so unstructured - just a sort of multi-topic rant about whatever's on the surface of my mind? It's related to that I haven't done a post in weeks. I'm spilling over. The bag's so full that even touching the zipper produces little noises of ripping fabric from the shift in pressure. I can't start talking about anything to anyone because everything would explode at once and it would become an attack against them without me even meaning to. Instead I'm at about the point of the song The Hit (Smile Empty Soul; don't laugh):
Just take me away from
These people
Who want shit
From me
Just tell them
I'm busy
So fuck off
And die
I'm moody. I'm bitchy. At times I'm actively angry. Someone just let a door go instead of holding it as I started to walk through, and I almost... I'm not sure. The urge, the impulse, the desire to rage was there, but I don't know what form it would have taken if I'd let myself act on it. I'm like a pan of extremely hot oil: there's almost nothing to see when I'm left alone, but touch me with a drop of water and I will spit. I will take your face off.
And then in other hours or on other days, I'm fine. This will be even choppier than I expected because I'm writing it over the course of at least two days. Before this paragraph was written Tuesday morning, before a dentist appointment; by the time the appointment was over, the anger had drifted away. I found an injured swallowtail butterfly and carried it fifteen minutes to my parents' garden, in hope that it might live better there than on the sidewalk; I talked to the crossing guard at my old school, who has been there since my brother, 17 years older than I, was in elementary school. I calmed. Then, later yesterday I hit my third major mood at this point, which is depressed and overwhelmed; I thought for a few seconds about checking my OSAP loan status, for instance, and felt my strength drain away like someone had opened a tap in my leg and drained out all my ATP.
Today I've managed exhaustion to the point of cheer, irritable, nervous, and driven to deal with some of the otherwhelming stuff (thankfully not feeling all of those at once, but rather in sequence). I would like very much to only think about my Dungeons and Dragons campaign and a planned Falling Skies-based roleplaythat are about the only two things I'm looking forward to right now... Unfortunately I instead am worrying about my classes, my homework, our books that I can't buy yet, our finances, my wisdom teeth, an eye exam, a tax return that hasn't come back yet, P's transport to and from school, a doctor's note to prescribe her the massages she needs to be functional without pain, my parents, a vet visit for our kitten who was supposed to get his first rabies shot two months ago, dinner, the inevitable fine-motor tasks that P will be assigned that she cannot physically do, the complete lack of a meal schedule, housework, needing a new binder because my current one is becoming non-functional, and how many opportunities I'm missing to make and maintain friendships and connections and get involved on campus because I have to go home and cook dinner every night. How many things I'm neglecting in the process of keeping two people fed, clothed, and out the door. I hear P talk about getting a third cat next year, and wonder how the hell that's supposed to work because I already don't think we're giving our current two enough attention.
That's completely leaving out questions like the ethics of buying from discount stores when I know the products are made in slave-labour conditions, or how to convince our city to make more bus routes wheelchair-accessible, or the nature of love and friendship, or whether there are gods or Gods, or whether all good character authors/writers are just a little bit schizophrenic. It leaves no time for me to learn to sew, research two-spirits in either Cherokee or Mik'maw culture, or do anything much on my own time that I would consider improving myself. My 'on my own time' is here, right now, on the bus for twenty minutes at a time. I barely have any time to read. Or hike. Or do a bit of real computer gaming; these are things that I used to consider the core of my activities. I'm ashamed of how little I have read in the past five years that was printed on paper and/or more than four pages long, that no one forced me to read; I used to go through novels in a day and a half. I haven't drawn anything more complicated than a tiny pen sketch in my notes for... years? I appear to have become an adult, one who can deal with the outside world and keep the utilities from being cut off, but I think I lost something in the process.
I hate the amount of time I spend mulish and resentful about other people's demands on my time. I will sometimes set myself needless tasks just for the backwards satisfaction of refusing to accomplish them. This isn't the person I thought I was, or that I wanted to be.
The good news is that I have finally, finally, booked myself an appointment with the free counselling service offered to students at my university. It's in about a week and a half - Friday after next. I have this worry that I'm not even going to be able to open my mouth, because I've spent so long denying and glossing over and sucking up and saying the positive thing that I might not actually be able to access how I'm really feeling with my vocal chords any more. The backpack is so full that the zippers are jammed, and nothing can make it out without a serious application of effort.
I feel done like dinner, which is a really terrible way to start the year. Yet I will go home and warm up some supper for us and send some emails and be sort-of-efficient, and watch an episode of Falling Skies and go to bed and never have said more than one word about this to anyone. And I will repeat this until the end of the year unless the counselling changes something.
