I feel like there is so much to say but all I can do is stare at the little flashing cursor. I'm about one threatening glance from a breakdown and I can't help but feel very very broken. I wish I could say exactly what is causing all the fear but all I know is that I've wound myself up so tight that everything ticks the wrong way. It's a whole lot of not functioning. I've spent today doing nothing. And somehow I feel worse than if I'd moved molehills. Moving Mountains is a miracle, but moving molehills... Thats just hard work.

I'm not very good at taking care of myself. I'd love to say that was a miscalulatedly pessimistic view. But if there is a miscalculation, its the other direction. I sometimes dream of what it would be like to live a mediocre life and just follow the parental outline of "get a job, pop out babies, grow old, tell your babies to pop out babies..." The truth is I don't think it's ethical to perpetuate a life built to simply "keep on keepin' on." So here I sit, freaking out about every sensory input; wound just a little bit too tight to sit right. It's been an especially anxious week for me and I don't really have a reason why. I'm not so much experiencing the crippling depression, just the neurotic anxiousness and endless what if...

I spent monday moving wood to build a table. I hauled 40 or so two by fours up to the loft and my body is feeling it. Which is good because I haven't had much excercise. I've tried to cut back on a lot of the unhealthy food I've been eating although I self medicated with several handfuls of swedish fish about half an hour ago which may be a bit of a set back. I'm a little worried (my word of choice for the day) that I might have irreparably damaged some process in my body. Too much sugar/alcohol/processed food. Not enough REAL food. I think I've been living off yogurt, microwave pot pies, mountain dew, and mac and cheese for about a month. On sunday I nearly had a fainting spell. That in combination with my growing gut, a sensitive stomache, and some wierd back itch has lead me to think I might have a real problem. That or I'm just too anxious for my own good.

There really isn't much to share. Which makes this the most boring entry I've written in forever. No threesomes, no death, no marriage woes (I'm woeful, but things seem stable enough). I sold a painting two weeks ago. It really sold itself. But It was some cash at any rate. I had said I was going to save it and get back some of my legendary savings, but I bought a smart thermostat instead. I had been looking forever and I am still mostly glad I bought it. Savings would be nice, but now I can turn up the heat from the comfort of my bed...

It's nice to get the dulldrom down on paper. It lets me start to sort out where I am. I spent most of last month ignoring my parents and sister. They called very frequently and by the end of the month it was usually at least twice a day. I eventually answered a call from my mom. She called from her work and I answered thinking it was an art call... Cheater! It was nice to feel a sense of isolation from them. Like I could pick who I wanted to be a little more. But it wasn't easy and I could feel the fear of some sort of familial wrath build up in me. I realized in that moment that every person I let into my life takes a little chunk of me. I wonder what it would be like to be whole. It'd be nice to commit to myself and not have to feel anxiety about the roles I play for other people. I think I need to plan more for myself.