Nov. 6th, 2016


Nov. 6th, 2016 01:19 am
hissingcockroach: (Default)
I continue to be 99% The Worst. The 1% there is because I actually managed to get a little with dinner yesterday, and did laundry today. The other 99% is because I am so terrible that those count as accomplishments. Still failing at paying bills, several other overdue with projects, keeping in touch with friends, cleaning house, and innumerable other things.

I don't know, though--keeping this journal is making me think that I'm somewhat attached to the narrative of being the worst. It's more dramatically satisfying than being merely sort of meh. I need to come up with a grand narrative for my life that allows for drama while also allowing for me to be mediocre at things sometimes. Why the fuck are you clinging to the drama, I hear you say? Because I refuse to be boring, dammit. If my life didn't have some kind of narrative arc, why should I even bother to keep living it? (...said hissing cockroach, dramatically.)


Nov. 6th, 2016 03:48 pm
hissingcockroach: (Default)
You know, it was 7.5 hours from when I woke up this morning to when I bothered to get off the couch and shower and put on some pants? I continue to disgust myself. I can't tell anyone the extent of this affliction, I'm too ashamed, and too convinced that if I really cared enough I could just stop, just be a normal person who can live a normal life. But I'm too in love with my pain, or something. I'm not sure if broadcasting my self-loathing to the void on here really helps, but at least it's a chance to articulate it.

I just don't have anything to live for. I don't want anything. All I have left is stuff I want to avoid--embarrassing myself, hurting my loved ones--and I'm afraid that even that is getting worn away over time.

They say you're supposed to have self-compassion, but while I can intellectually see why that's helpful, it's always sounded wrong to me. Not sure why. Just sounds like an excuse. They say, would you treat a friend the way you're treating yourself? And my response is, of course not, but I can't see inside my friend's head. If I could see inside their head and they were being as slothful, self-pitying, and excuse-laden as I am, maybe I WOULD call them an asshole.


Nov. 6th, 2016 05:59 pm
hissingcockroach: (Default)
I added a user icon. I chose the name of this blog because a despised creature named after its primary method of complaining seemed appropriate to the theme. But in reality, I think hissing cockroaches are pretty cool animals--so there's some secret hope for redemption there, I guess.

It occurs to me now that it might have been more appropriate to pick an animal that is outwardly acceptable but has little-known awful behaviors. Being despised by most but secretly pretty cool, like a cockroach, seems preferable to being outwardly tolerable but secretly abhorrent, which seems closer to my current situation. I guess even in this blog devoted to how shitty I am, I managed to sneak in some undeserved self-regard.

When I was a kid, my fantasy self was often a big toothy monster that scared everyone away except for the occasional brave soul willing to try to befriend it. Maybe that's what I should aspire to.


hissingcockroach: (Default)

November 2016

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