I thought I would write out my thoughts here first, but this may very well become the first episode of Opinion Piece (working title, because it's probably already taken), my podcast in the works.
A shot of failure
I put that new mic and boom arm to work yesterday, and recorded myself reading a blog post from January. It wasn't too bad. Ended up being about a 15-minute listen, including all pauses for stupidity, ums, ahs, etc.
I believe I am best at getting my thoughts out in a succinct manner when I first write them. Just "riffing" as the kids probably don't even say anymore, I sit here frozen. Nothing to say. Like that brain-dump, Morning Papers writing. Not a good thing.
So, it's Monday morning, and I did FAIL to plan out my workweek last night. Instead I just did some work, then played some Solitaire, and other mindless riff-raffy games (what's with the word "riff" today?) Is it an acronym for Right Inside Fail, or Right in First, or Ready in Five ...? This all remains to be seen.
I have my sexy Notion board all mapped out, and broken into Daily to-dos, Daily always-dos, Weekly, and even Monthly dos. Takes about 2 minutes to get it set up for the next day, if that. Keeps me in line because allow me to tell you, there is a magical metric FUCKTON of stuff I do and have to remember at any given moment. If I didn't have this page, I would surely be lost, and out of a job by now.
I don't know how anyone else keeps their shit straight, as I appear to be the only one really using it for work planning, etc. We use it for assorted web pages, and wikis, and whatnot, but other than that, it's crickets when I am there. And to think, that's what we used when the company first started, and EVERY thing was home-based there.
I can't really share it because privacy and all, but it's a very aesthetically pleasing page to my eyeballs, like Odin.
Look at dat face. Just LOOK at it ...
ANYWAYS, I listen to random shit throughout the day. Saturday, I listend to the audio version of The Compound Effect:
I'm sure the author is right, but I'm also sure that motivational speaking never motivated me to do anything. I'm more of a Van Down by the RIVER kind of girl.
I have a lot of things I want to accomplish:
Continue to lose weight
Quit the nicotine
Start that podcast
Do art
Etc.
I also have very little mental capacity with which to make all this shit happen. I have learned that you should not plan to quit smoking on the day there are 10 people running in and out of your house replacing your plumbing, all while trying to contain dog-beasts, a cat, and also attempting to accomplish work-related tasks. That was stupid. Also not good to think I could accomplish it in the midst of adjusting to his new work schedule. I haven't quite figured out if it will be a good thing or a not good thing, when it comes to quitting. One the one hand, it might be easier, since I have a LOT of alone time, and therefore, no temptation from him smoking. On the other hand, I have a LOT of alone time, which means, a lot of loneliness, boredom, and chances for breaking down, driving to town, and buying more.
The common denominator there, though, is ME. It's ME that has to do this, no matter what else is going on. And while it's never going to be the "right" time to quit, it has to be some time.
This is NOT a post about that, though, so off we go on planning, which is the real topic du jour. I don't have a plan. I don't have a routine to speak of. I just mostly exist to breathe, smoke, and work.
I was listening to some stuff from Jordan Peterson last night. I can't listen to him a lot because most of the time, he sounds so sad, and like he's about to burst into uncontrollable sobbing, but he does say some things that make sense. (nevermind what I said about motivational speakers) ...
Among the thoughts:
People who don't have enough order in their life tend to get overwhelmed.
Specify your damned goals because how are you gonna hit something if you don't know what it is?
If you keep yourself all vague and foggy, then you don't know when you fail
... I'll keep myself blind when I fail. That's fine, you just won't know it until you've failed so badly that you're done
Make a damned schedule and stick to it. It's not a bloody prison ... Set the damned schedule up so that you have the day you WANT
And here we are some five days later and I have progressed no further. I have no schedule. I have no plan. I listen to goal-setting content, and all I can think is what is the fucking point, and what do I really want? I don't even know what I want on a grand scale.
This has to stop.
This being nothing, doing nothing, sitting here taking up space - it just has to stop.
It starts with what I did last night. Went to dinner with a friend. Got out the damned house. Did something other than work or go to the store. Just went out and be-ed.
Sometimes, I feel like I have dumbed myself down to the point of being a blithering idiot full of soundless fury with much nothing about ado. If all the world is truly a stage, then what the fuck am I? A dust mite up in the rafters?
I have forgotten how to dream. I've been too long stuck in reality. Ask me to define myself, I would fail to be able to do so.
Being full of useless quips and quotes today, I'll leave it with this: There's no time like the present, right?
I no longer know what to do with myself. Really. I'm at a loss. Even writing that sentence made me get up and leave the room. Maybe that book has some answers. Would probably help if I actually read it. I started to read it, but then got distracted by wasting my free time doing absolutely nothing.
I tried watching the Barbie movie. Based on clips that I saw here and there, and that beautiful Billie Eilish song, which is also fitting for my current mindset, I thought there was some deeper meaning that I wanted to see. There wasn't. Well over half way through, I just could not. It was such a color headache the likes of which I have not seen since Once Upon a Time in Mexico ...
Where was I. I got distracted trying to find a clip from the movie for demonstration purposes, but then started watching said clips.
Anyway, I'm not depressed. I'm tired. I'm worn out. I'm burned out, as The Theys call it. I'm frustrated. I'm just a heap of nothingness at the moment. The ONLY part in Barbie that I related to was when she flopped down on the fake grass on her face, like a discarded doll. THAT, I felt hard.
Credit: Google Search for "Barbie falls on her face on the lawn"
You know, with the exception of one or two days, since I returned from Arizona, I have ate the same thing for lunch, and sometimes dinner, every single day. I am without urge to cook. I am without urge to plan to cook. I find it taxing to just take care of myself in the most basic manner. Until I went to town yesterday, I couldn't tell you the last time I left the house at all.
All of these people that I see on my socials, how do you have friends? How do DO activities? How do you go out in the world and want to be there? Maybe if I traveled at least monthly, I'd be able to fake it more, but just constantly being here, doing the same thing over and over and over has left me urgeless to even attempt to do anything else.
I am not living. I am just existing. I don't have relationships with anyone else but my husband, and to those of you reading this, it's NOT YOU, it's ME ... I lack the ability to maintain contact with anyone, unless I have to, or they are my child. I love all of my siblings all over the place, and I know I have failed as a sister, grotesquely, even. I guess I just feel that all my issues are at the level of "First-World problems," and I don't wish to burden anyone else with such trivialities. (<----That's an actual word!?!)
I feel that I have zero purpose. I do not DO anything of real import that couldn't be replaced by another human or a machine. I know I am smart, but I am NOT intelligent. If I were, I would have accomplished so much more by now. I can't even stand to watch others who have ideas, like on YouTube, because all I can think of is I would try and fail, so why even exert the energy? Good for them, but I am not they, and they are not me.
There's no mommy issues here (well, maybe ...) but I was raised to be "less than." I was raised to settle for whatever I could get because I wasn't ever going to amount to a "hill of beans." Did they ever expressly utter those exact words? No. Did they show it via their actions, or trying to sweep me under the rug, so they could save face with their adoring public? Yes.
I have been cancelled by my son because I chose to say what I truly felt about something that's ongoing, and instead of listening to me, or asking me what I meant, or even wanting to speak to me on the phone, he has chosen to forget I exist. Cool.
My mom only calls when she needs something, like being driven to Walmart. I don't even rate taking her to doctor appointments. Just the errand girl. I have been treated, by her, like the hired help on most all occasions. Slipped some cash, as if I needed PAID to do this, even. What the fuck? Why be around someone who is so embarrassed to be seen with you that they don't even introduce you, let alone let people know that you are their daughter? It's kind of nauseating.
I'm not the world's best wife, no matter how much he may argue that opinion. I'm not. I am not affectionate. I am not overly emotive. I work too much. I do too little else. I just don't know how to change me to be the wife I think I should be.
The only place where I feel the least bit worthy is my work. I don't even consider it a job because I have a pretty ideal situation. I did work hard to get to where I am now. I won't try to pretend I didn't, but I still don't feel like I measure up on most days, even with repeated praise from my boss.
I'm just depleted. Probably could use therapy, but I don't want to talk to anybody. I want to be able to fix this, fix me, myself.
I don't even begin to know where to start. So I just sit here prone, struggling to even move from my seat. Frozen. (Literally, today, and figuratively.) That sketchbook in the photo above? I took that picture weeks ago. It's still sitting there. I got the TV stand put together, so I can set up the home gynauseum properly, but do you know where it sits? Right by the door where I moved it after I built the damned thing, waiting on a bunch of other things to happen.
About the only thing I'm doing really good at is my eating. I cut out the Crystal Light, as of the last time I posted here. I also stopped eating those damnable French Fried Onions (the Meijer brand) because I know they are lower in carbs on their face, but not if you polish off a bag of them in one or two days. I actually took a moment to ingest some serious carbs and sugar last night, but it wasn't worth the five bucks paid. I find that the more this way of eating goes on, the less I can tolerate any manner of restaurant food.
See, my brain is all over the place. I have plenty of things I could be doing right now, but instead, I'm sitting here digitally whining about nothing. That's how I feel about myself. What the fuck is the point? Why am here? What purpose do I serve? Before you assume anything, I am NOT suicidal. I am just utterly confused, and mostly lost.
You'd think by now, at this no-longer-young age, I'd have some things figured out.
