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So, took a...hm, not a break, exactly. More like a minor reprieve from job hunting during the last two weeks due to conventions and being out of town and holidays and stuff. Because it WOULD be my luck to actually get a call back while I was gone, and I wasn't willing to risk it.

But! Cons and other miscellaneous activities are all wrapped up now, and it's back to filling out applications, following up on them, and bugging the shit out of people. If I happen to annoy anyone in the process, well, we'll consider therapeutic, considering the  fact that most of their systems probably filter out my application before human eyes ever lay upon it. So, yeah. Even.

Oh god, life is so...tedious? Repetitive? Pointless? right now. God save me and any other unfortunately unemployed soul on the verge of stabbing their eyes out from fighting the system to find work. What a bitch, seriously.

Ahh, and it sucks that, even with all my free time, and all the ideas I have stirring in my head, I can't seem to sit down with any of them and do something. I mean, you'd think. And you'd be wrong.

Fuck.

Anyway.

At least there's a lot of new series being released that I'm interested in. And since I made a new live profile on my Xbox, I've been having to work back through all my games to build up my score again. Easier this go around obviously, having played/beat/etc them at least once before.

Oh god, and Supernatural! Fuck what anyone says, the new season has me salivating. Well...aside from all the Cas fans and Destiel shippers who won't SHUT THE FUCK UP IF GOD FORBID THERE IS NO MENTION OF HIM IN AN EPISODE AND THEREFORE IT SUCKS AND IS RUINED FOR THEM. Seriously, fucking HATE them. I like Cas just as much as the next person, but I'm not losing my fucking mind and bombing the show if I don't see him. I will kill those people.

I'm kind of glad I didn't talk to any other fans at the Chicago convention, because if I had met one of them I probably would've defaulted with a throat-punch. They're just so annoying. Guh.

Oh, and I saw my artist friend again at my local convention! Haven't seen him since last year due to skipping out on AX, and it's always fun to catch up with him. I feel bad though because I unintentionally monopolize his table due to people being unwilling to approach me, let alone go around me. Ha, and I totally blew his mind when he brought up (unfailingly) the subject of whether my roommate and I were dating, and I told him I was asexual. He had no idea about it, didn't even know what it was or that it was actually a thing. Hell, he looked it up that night and then questioned me about it the next day. He was honest to god fascinated.

I'll admit, it was pretty fucking hilarious.

That's pretty much all that's going on now. Maybe in the future I'll have something new to the routine.

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Busy little bee.

God, the next two weeks are gonna be so damn busy. I'm dying to get back to the archery range and get some practice in, maybe drag my roommate along. Sometime in the next few days we'll probably do pumpkin carving, and I've got several games to finish/start/continue.

Then on Thursday we're heading to Chicago for the Supernatural convention (driving, because O'Hare is a fucking NIGHTMARE, not worth taking a plane for a short trip to get stuck there). I wonder exactly how it works for those conventions? I've been to plenty of anime conventions, but they cover a lot more media, and this is just for a single show. Well, I guess I'll find out when we get there.

Then when we get back we have Halloween, and fuck, I'm pumped about that after missing it last year due to my asshole coworker.

And after that there's my annual local anime convention, conveniently a mile from my place.

Basically by the end of the next two weeks, I'll be totally fucking broke. No two ways about it.

As long as it's worth it, I guess.

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Sometimes I can't believe this is my life.

There are some days when I get up and I go about my day and I can't really believe anything that happens. Not because it's extraordinary or mind-boggling or ridiculous, but because I just sit there and look at myself and just have to stop and think about it.

Yesterday I woke at the abysmally late (for me anyway) hour of 10:30, and I puttered around my room for a while reading porn involving pies. Then I went down to let maintenance into the apartment so he could replace a doorknob, and dug a tupperware of mac and cheese out of the fridge, popping it in the microwave and then sliding down on the floor to eat it. I was just sitting there, against my fridge, stabbing forkfuls and munching them, legs outstretched and wearing pajama pants and a game print t-shirt, with Mario cannon slippers on my feet and cats crawling around my legs, giggling at fandom.

And I just couldn't believe that was my life. It felt so weird, so surreal. It didn't feel sane at all, but I was so happy. It was just...stupid.

Sometimes I feel like I could just kill the world. Sometimes I want to. But some days I'm just so content with everything I wonder how it could ever be normal.

It's a little depressing, I guess, that my happiness is achieved by burying my head in the sand, so to speak, and ignoring everything around me, but hey, whatever gets me through the day, right?

I can't think about it too much. I try not to. These are dark times in my head, dark days in my life, and I wonder how they haven't smothered me sometimes. But I'm still breathing, still moving, and I suppose that's all I can do.

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My mom every now and then likes to bemoan my lack of defense.

After the abysmal fallout of my last job, she sometimes likes to bring up how I left whenever she sees signs of how I'm still recovering over going back to work. She believes I should be angry and have stood up better for myself about it.

I must ask her this.

What exactly would my getting angry about it accomplish?

Would it have saved my job? Would it have salvaged my unfair conditions? Would it have changed my employers' ridiculous expectations for my duties and disregard for my opinions?

Nobody cared about my problems or circumstances, my issues and complaints and reasons. Nobody cared about the high demands they placed on me that I was unprepared or unable to handle. They only cared about results that I apparently was not providing, drawing conclusions without asking my input, and taking everyone else's word over mine because I was new and therefore had to be wrong.

At the end of the day I was still poorly trained, poorly equipped and poorly informed, and I still performed ridiculously well given the high traffic and grossly congested area I worked in.  And that was with them constantly changing the rules and systems and work orders on me that they hadn't properly trained me for in the first place. These people left me entirely by myself to handle these things, a job that should have required at least two people that I had to do single-handedly from the first week I got there! And they were changing the system every fucking week at that while I was still learning what to do!

They had me fill out forms and record details that no one else was required to do. I had to write out reasons for everything I did, time it, date it, and usually expect a phone call or a talk to personally explain what went on. I, in the month and a half I worked there, was made to do more work in that time then people who had been working there for a year; people, I might add, who were much more familiar and comfortable with the job. Never mind that I was extremely proactive about asking questions, trying to find solutions for my shortcomings, and regularly requesting extra tasks I could perform to fill up the time when things got slow so I couldn't be accused of lazing about.

What she doesn't understand is I AM angry. I'm furious. The rabid dog inside me has been barking and snarling at the end of its chain for three months and still wants to tear someone's throat out. But my anger does nothing. I didn't have the time or energy to waste on people who didn't care about me. And I don't want to be angry about it. There's a reason I learned patience, learned tolerance, keep that rage buried deep, deep down inside where no one can see it or touch it.

It's because the kind of anger I'm capable of is dangerous. It could kill people.

And no. I am not exaggerating about that.

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This is probably the weirdest period of my life I've ever lived through.

It's like reinventing everything.

There's a feeling of happiness squirming underneath my chest that makes no sense, and has me smiling and enjoying the stupidest things: the fat on my cat's stomach when I roll him over, the ridiculous cover articles my roommate and I crow at in the grocery store line, the anticipation of rain when I know I have to go outside, the beats of my stereo that I feel vibrate under my feet when I'm cooking in the kitchen.

How is it possible to be happy?

Sometimes I don't understand it at all. Shouldn't I be miserable? I just survived the most horrible crisis of my life, and it's not like my situation has improved, and yet I lie on my carpet and breathe and think I'm alive, even when my muscles are aching and my teeth are hurting and I'm trying to figure out how to pay all my bills and the whole thing makes me want to laugh.

I spend my hours watching stupid TV shows and cleaning up and reading smut and then I go to bed and dream about crazy shit, and then I wake up and do it all over again.

Is this another form of insanity? Part of me thinks it has to be.

Why does it feel so good to be alive?

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Take a number, get in line.

It's hard to write about what's going on in life when nothing's happening.

I almost wish I were more prone to depression. Because this isn't depression, this is stagnation. Depression presses down on you like gravity. Stagnation just gnaws on you and slowly eats you alive while you sit there not even knowing what's going on.

I wish I could eat someone.

So what's my current setup? Oh, I just sit around my apartment playing games, reading porn, and filling applications. My fucking job decided that they were going to pull giant dick moves and suspend me from receiving any benefits even from previous claims for no good fucking reason, which I would take to court if I had the fucking money, oh but look at that.

God I just don't even care anymore. Did I ever?

Nevermind the $400 I had to drop for my roommate's phone bill because he didn't bother to check the statement.

So, yeah. That sucked.

After that I bathed my cats. Their abject misery from the experience made me feel better.

I also watched all the new episodes for all my favorite shows. Ah, Supernatural. And Korra.

I even beat another of my games! In, like, 2 weeks! That's a record for me. And it wasn't even a particularly awesome game. Just a moderately entertaining one. Ah ha, I was so depressingly over-leveled I killed one of the two final bosses with just a minute or two of hitting him with normal attacks. I spend way too much game time grinding. And I really shouldn't enjoy it so much.

I wish I was in a better head-space to write, because this is a perfect time to do it, but alas, my muse still does not come. The bitch.

Well, whatever. Maybe I'll go to the zoo this week. Just don't think about it.

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I FEEL LIKE MYSELF AGAIN.

God, it only took 2 fucking months to get back to a state where I feel normal and healthy (in my head anyway). And to think, all it took was dying, two psychological breakdowns, a whole hell of a lot of mental and emotional roller coaster rides, and more tears than I've probably cried since before I was 12 years old.

I think I've invented a whole new type of psychosis that I'll have to record somewhere later detailing the experience.

Good thing I'm a survivor.

So where do I stand now?

I'm a whole new me. I've got free time again so I'm using it to try to rediscover my old passions and DO stuff again. Play all the games I've let collect dust in my living room, pick at my guitar again, work on my sketching and my writing, dabble in my language programs. My sister is leaving in a few days(?) and then it'll just be me, my mother, and grandmother still in the area. I don't think I'll ever bring myself to leave. This is my home in a way nowhere else has ever been. Everything significant that's ever happened to me is here, all the good, all the bad. Where else would I go?

I feel a little like a bird, circling a tree. Every now and then I alight on a branch because I'm not certain where to go, but I'm too restless to stay grounded so I just have to take flight, like surfacing to breathe.

Part of me wants to run around and go absolutely crazy while the other part's sitting there going, 'oh, settle down you silly child before you hurt someone'. I just want to give everyone a big 'fuck you' and 'have a nice day'!

Maybe I will.
Well, so far this year fucking sucks.

I held a funeral for myself last Monday, said my piece and moved on. Now...now...

God. I'm right back where I started.

Why the hell do I keep going in this giant fucking circle, and how the mother fucking hell do I get the fuck off of it!?

I'm so tired. So, so tired. I wish I...I wish I had actual feelings about it, so I could at least figure out what to do.

I feel immortal right now, stuck in time without change.

Please. Please, please, please.

Someone just get me out.

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Spring is just around the corner.

And with it, I hope to be able to breathe just for a little while.

I'm kind of disappointed with things right now. I miss the old days where all I had were good times, stable work, and funny stories to tell. Now it seems I've just got health problems, head problems, and a whole bunch of crap I don't need.

Last Sunday I had a complete and total meltdown the likes of which I don't think I've experienced since back when I was still in high school, and even then nothing of quite this caliber of severity. It took me two hours just to get under control enough to do anything, and the worst part was being stuck at work, which was far from an ideal setting to try and scrap my sanity back together. Fortunately it was quiet and I had time to just sit and collect myself, because I was barely coherent for a while. It was probably the longest 8 hour shift of my life, and I was begging it to be over quickly so I could retreat somewhere safe to die in peace.

Things haven't improved much since then, as I spent the following two days suffering psychological whiplash over my feelings regarding the matter, alternating between pissed off and anxious as fuck, with hardly a break unless I was buried as deep as I could be in fandom. I'm doing better now, but I can't help wondering how long it'll last.

Jesus fuck, what this is doing to me. If I develop an ulcer before it's all over, I can't say I'll be surprised.

I was sad to hear that my mom's not having much of an easy time down in Hawaii, but I'm honestly not surprised. Whenever she's around, people tend to leave all the shit for her to deal with and run off doing whatever they want. The woman is not a fucking crutch guys. These are your fucking affairs and you need to be the ones to deal with them.

One nice thing I can relay is last night. My sister dragged me along to accompany her to a play of the Three Musketeers, and it was hilarious. More so it was nice to unwind and enjoy myself for a little while. I don't like having to rely on pick-me-ups to run off of, but I suppose if it gets me through the times I can't complain.

Here's to hoping that the mourning period will be over soon.

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So, it's already been almost a month.

Running through cycles and getting familiarized with myself again. It feels strange, sweeping up the broken pieces and putting myself back together. There are still moments where I stop and sit down and have to figure things out again, where I try to get used to this new...well, new me. The more time passes the more I feel settled into my skin, but it still feels too tight sometimes.

I think I miss the security the most. I've given up on trying to defend myself, that is, if I ever bothered to in the first place. I just can't bring myself to care enough to complain. It never really makes a difference, and by the time it would matter I've long since forgotten all about it.

Anyway.

My ear seems to be clearing up. I actually went to see a doctor about it, and fortunately the problem wasn't serious. Some medication and I should be fine. I also had blood work done while I was there, and the results just confirmed what I already knew. I'm seriously anemic, and they want me taking iron and vitamin C supplements to help. What I really need of course is to get my nerves tested again, see how bad the damage has gotten. It's been 3? 4? years since I was last tested and they were already thinking surgery back then.

I'm not sure I want to know about now.

Things have been changing for my family as well. My younger brother is gone now, moved down to Hawaii into the condo my mother has there. She went down to join him and help him get settled in. I hope being so far away will help him finally become the person I've seen glimpses of under the surface of his punk-ass nature. I've made it no secret that I don't like his friends or his bad habits, and that I hate the influences he takes up, so hopefully being away from all of that will give him a fresh start and nourish those better parts of him. Kid's always lacked a proper direction. Maybe he'll find it now.

My sister will also be leaving next month, moving to California with my grandfather for a while until she gets settled in. Not sure how I feel about that. It's weird to picture her a California girl. I guess it's because my impression of her is more New York than LA, more east coast than west. Not that either location is better than the other in my book. I hate the coasts.

She seems pretty anxious about it, but I think she'll be alright. I don't see her having too hard a time finding work or making friends. She's got that natural feisty Spanish attitude backing her up. I think her biggest hurdle will be getting used to the price difference. Fucking LA. Everything's so expensive there.

And my mom? Well, her I worry about a little. I can't quite pin her down right now, about how she'll handle being alone in her house. She gets out enough I suppose, but she doesn't have...the right support, I guess? To handle being an empty nester. Maybe she'll surprise me. I don't know. I know how she feels about being alone. She needs more hobbies.

Well, I've got my own problems to worry about first. It feels like I've spent my whole life putting my life together, but I'm no closer to really figuring out what to do with it. Especially now that they've knocked out the part that was comfortable with just working, just doing whatever job I had to the best of my ability.

Where do I go from here? I still have things I want to accomplish, things I haven't crossed off my list of wanting in my future. Like kids.

If I could just figure out how to scratch this itch I have. Everything feels so wasted, but where do I start? I want to feel right. I think that's what I've been waiting for.

I hope I don't have to wait much longer.

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