It has lately come to my attention a few things. One. I am absolutely fucking killer at coming up with ideas for fiction stories. Absolute shit at the execution. Two, if I look at my own history it’s pretty freaking hilarious. I mean how many 15 year olds sneak their best friend into church camp, steal a car from their parents so they can go four wheeling at midnight, and drive across country in a truck whose clutch is going out with a boy that cannot drive a standard? I’m a freaking best selling movie right here ya’ll.
That was a really freaking long run on sentence also, deal with it. Grammar is not my strong point. Never has been never will be. I write like I feel, write like who I am. I can’t change who I am and nor do I wish too.
Next, I saw something I think on Pinterest that really clicked, because I have lately been eaten up by some serious jealousy, and I’m sort of ashamed of this. My best friend in the world *see the sneaking into church camp episode* is married and happy with a pretty amazing man. I’ve been jealous over that. (Sorry Chi Chi). Next, I saw a random tweet from a friend and saw she had 198 followers, holy mother of Ra was I jealous. I don’t know why? I love each and every one of my 77 followers, (possibly 78, because someone who sells iphone covers just followed me, when I don’t have an Iphone? are they trying to be ironic?). Never the less I was. The sole reason I feel comfortable enough to blog, Jenny, the Bloggess, just made an amazing promotional video, I was jealous over that. Again. stupid of me.
Anyway what clicked, it said “NOTHING that happens that is good for someone else takes ANYTHING away from you”. I really wish I wasn’t feeling the jealousy, and insecurity I do right now. Because I am. I need to focus on this.
Going from there, I am doing -amazing- when it comes to upgrades, at work 10 Premiums and 6 equipment today. I don’t know what possibly I could be doing any better than that. I am killing it. Truly. and I am proud of that, yet…I am wondering why I don’t feel like I am enough,
I realize I am on that -cycle- part of depression that is a fucking liar that makes you hate yourself, and make you think that no matter what you will not be part of the in crowd, or for that matter, any crowd. At all. Ever.
I do wonder why though, very few people seek me out. I have maybe 2 people that actually start games with me, and two people from work, have actually friend-ed me. Not the other way around.
I hate depression, I hate the anxiety, I hate that no matter what, whether I take kava, blog about it, take the anti depressants nothing seem to stop this.
So, I find myself having just ordered a shirt, that says just “life” on it. Sometime next week, I am taking a pile of lemons to work, and just randomly start handing them out. See if any one notices