I haven’t done one of these in a long time, but this is really therapeutic for me, so I’m going to open up. You don’t have to read it, it won’t matter to me if you do or not, but getting it all out in the open really helps clear my head, so I put it out there in blog form to get it out of my brain and in some form of writing. I guess I do care if people read it. I’m not sharing it to Facebook or Twitter, because if people really want to read it, they’ll find it.

Right now, I’m languishing over whether or not I should leave my job at the hotel. I really like the pay, but the benefits aren’t equal to the stress I deal with here. A lot of the stress is anxiety related, because I whip myself into a tizzy over the dumbest shit. For instance, a couple weeks ago, my boss called me in the middle of an otherwise normal night, and asked if I knew anything about an incident that had occurred. I had no idea what he was talking about, but once I reviewed the cameras, I found what he was talking about and I along with my coworkers were all complicit in failing to catch it. It was purely our fault, we should have been watching the cameras and we simply weren’t. I got so anxious and nervous over the whole thing, I was literally sick to my stomach. I had to call into work, for other reasons as well, but I was so anxious, it made me physically ill. It turned out to be no big deal, but it really made me realize how bad my anxiety is getting. I didn’t have this working at the gas station, but I also didn’t have the pay and fringe benfits I get here, either. The main reason I left the gas station I worked at is because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my adult life working in a convenience store. It just seemed so below me, I guess. I don’t know why, it was easy work for decent pay, it just wasn’t fulfuilling. This job is more fulfilling, but like I said, my stress is compounding all the time. I know I should value my own mental sanity over all, but there are also bills to be paid. That’s the one thing keeping me from chasing my dreams, is the thought of destitution.

I work a lot. I usually work from 4pm until 630am at least 3-4 days a week, and 10pm-630am 1-2 days a week. I make good money, and I don’t even really NEED to work two jobs, but I do. I do it because I’ve been dead fucking broke my whole life, and now that I work so much, I don’t have to worry about money nearly as much. I’ve ALWAYS worried about how my bills were going to get paid, because I always had shit jobs. Now I don’t have to worry, but I never get to rest. I’m always moving, always going and it’s fucking exhausting. But I do it anyway. I do it so I don’t have to worry, about money at least. I still worry about every little thing, except money. I would honestly be much happier if I could make a real living delivering pizzas, but I can’t. I just wouldn’t make enough to pay my car note, insurance and all that. I did in the past because my bills weren’t nearly as high, but now it’s too much.

I need a major fucking change in my life. I need something to kick me in the head and make me realize that life is too fucking short to work a job you hate and be miserable all the goddamn time. I feel like the last year and a half of my life has just buzzed by with me barely noticing, and that’s absolutely frightening. The fact that such a large swath of time has just disappeared and I have absolutely nothing to show for it. It’s all been for nothing other than maintaining what I’ve got. Paying my bills, moving on to the next day, the next week and the next month. Life is a blur for the sake of forward motion. Forward motion until you hit that wall and you die. I feel like if I don’t find some kind of purpose for my life soon, I’m going to just lose all of my fight. I’m going to lose all of my ambitions and hopes and dreams, and just give up and live the boring, normal cookie cutter life in some plain, boring apartment by myself, alone until the day I die. That thought scares me more than anything I’ve ever faced.

One of my absolute biggest fears in life is the thought of spending all of my life, being a boring, plain man who just lives on his own, works every day, and has no purpose. I have absolutely nothing to live for, and that’s part of why it scares me. There is nothing in my life that would be changed detrimentally if I suddenly stopped existing. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with working for a living, everyone’s got to eat. I’m not saying I want to just stop working, live off the government and eak my way through life until I take the old dirt nap. I’m saying I want to find something that makes me happy, that gives me purpose, and that can sustain me with some padding in the bank account. I don’t want anything super extravagant, I just want to know that I’m not going to have to worry if something unexpected comes along. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been blindisded by something as small as a $200 car repair bill that set me back exponentially. It’s happened multiple times, and it makes me feel like an absolute moron. To not be able to cover something as small as that, it’s belittling and humbling, and not in a good way. It annoys me that I can’t make myself save money, that I just feel like I HAVE to spend money if I have it in my account or in cash. I’ve always been that way, and I’ve always been broke. I’m such an impulse spender, it’s getting in the way of my life. It’s an absolute struggle for me to save money for ANYTHING.

I feel like that’s another one of my problems, I’m too whiny all the time. I whine about everything, and I know it’s annoying, but I don’t know how to stop. It’s just become synonymous with me, which is not a good trait to have. I’m not even trying to play the “Woe is me, the white man” shit, I just literally am slightly upset by everything. My inital gut reaction to EVERYTHING is to complain. I know this post is kind of rambly, but that’s the point. It’s a stream-of-consciousness thing where I just put whatever I’m thinking through the keyboard into the blog, until my brain is absolutely empty. If you’ve made it this far, thanks, but there’s still much more to say, so bear with me.

This has always been my favorite way to relieve my stress, with blogging. I started a LiveJournal a long time ago that I’ve never shown anyone where I would post everything, completely unfiltered. I didn’t pay attention to grammar, or spelling or punctation, I just kind of let it all go, and put everything out there. It helped me so, so much. I’ll never show it to anyone, but it’s my secret cupboard of thoughts that are very personal to me. I’ve started to realize a lot about myself lately. I realize why I’m scared of sexuality (no, I won’t share it because it’s immensely personal), I realize that I’m SEVERELY depressed and I’m very good at hiding it to the point where most people wouldn’t even notice it, I realize I’m so deeply ingrained into being single at this point that being with someone else would be almost too much of a shock to my senses and it probably won’t work with anyone for the rest of my life. I realize my own mortality, and death does not scare me any more. I’m scared to lose the people who mean the most to me, because once they’re gone, then I’ll be all alone for the rest of my life. I realize I act out my fears as hate towards other people when they upset me. I realize I need help but I’m too stubborn to get it. I really should be seeing a therapist, but I’m too lazy to do it. No one’s going to do it for me, or make me do it, nor do I expect someone to. I just value my own life so little that my personal mental health means that little to me. I know I SHOULD care about me, but I don’t. I just try to trudge through life, be nice to others as often as I can and get to the end with as little conflict as possible. Even in death, though, I feel like I’d be a big burden to someone. I always feel like a burden. I always feel like I have to depend on someone else for everything, and I don’t know how to shake that. It’s scary and one of the reasons I’m so timid. I don’t like rustling the real feathers of life, so I just kind of go with the flow and do what I want.

The thought of living alone scares me, too. Too often I get lost in my thoughts and I start thinking really, really dark thoughts. The only thing that keeps me grounded is being around someone else. Once I start tumbling inwards into my mind, It hits the dark spot pretty quick and if someone else isn’t around, it’s a fight within myself to not do some dumb shit. I don’t think I’d ever kil myself, but I really don’t care if I die. I really don’t see a purpose of being here any longer than necessary. I’m not scared of death because death is a release. Death is the final end to all the bullshit, all the stress and anxiety, all the drama and confrontations and stupid arguments that you can never win, all the short checks, all the car problems, all the fear and worry and regret. Once you die, all that is gone. Whether you believe you’re going to heaven, or back to the cosmos, or just left to rot in the earth, it doesn’t matter. Your collective concsiousness has ended, and you are free from it all. All the He Said, She Said bullshit, all the minor inconveniences, traffic jams, all the dates that stood you up, everything is done and over with. To me, that is far more beautiful than anything life can provide at this moment in time.

I know that sounds like some moody teenage rant, but it’s one hundred percent honesty from me. That’s where I’m at in my life right now, I can’t wait to die so I can be released from all the bullshit life is throwing at me right now.

I thought I knew what my passion was, but as it turns out, I can fake being passionate. I still want to make movies and do standup comedy, but I can’t break myself from the tether of bills to just shirk everything in favor of that nomadic kind of lifestyle. It seems so fantastial and romanticized, and I would love nothing more than to do that, but I just can’t break myself out of this rut and convince myself to do it because I know I would go right back to destitution which would absolutely suck. Maybe living out of my car wouldn’t suck that bad, who knows. I could probably make it work.

I remember when I had hit hard times once, I was thinking of moving to a new city. I’ll never forget the one thought that kept me from doing it, I was trying to find places to live, and the thought hit me like a ton of bricks, “Which city would I like to start my homeless career in?” I know if I were to move to a new city, I would not be able to support myself enough to get my own apartment, and would end up on the streets. That one thought scared me so bad, I haven’t gotten over it yet or forgotten it, and that was YEARS ago. I don’t want to be homeless, but I don’t want to be miserable all the time, either.

I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what I want in life, and I don’t see it ever getting any better. I want to go back to school, but I have no idea what I want to study. I would like to do somethign involving video games or movies, because even at almost 30, those are the only things that really still keep my interest at all. I just keep telling myself, “You’re not smart enough for that.” and I still believe it.