April 23rd. Sunday
So I left you hanging in that last entry. Now you know how I feel right now. Though, beyond hanging, I’d say I’m thoroughly hung.
For finals, I have a big final paper due for Econ. I’m understandably stressed about this because I don’t like/do well in Econ. Luckily (and infuriatingly) we get to write about what we want (specifically an economic system, not anything). This makes things easier and more difficult: easier because I don’t have to read something I’m not interested, to, in turn, write about something I’m not interested in, but harder because I have to present information via my own framework. Which is torture for the insecure.
I’m a very slow reader, which makes research very stressful. I can’t pour over dozens of books in a week, particularly these days when I’m more likely to fall asleep than reach the next page. I’m a fine writer, but I’m hella stressed about this paper, and I’m pretty slow when it comes to getting any to substantial word count. I usually enjoy writing. But not like this.
This girl. I like her. But do I? I like that she likes me… She likes me. She’s really nice and really smart and really pretty but I don’t know if I like like her. I didn’t let that stop me, figuring that the like like might just come in time. But it’s been a while since then, and I still feel the same way.
I told her. That I don’t like like her. No one told me you weren’t supposed to tell people that. I’m not sure where we are right now or what’s going to happen but this was a proper awful time to do a romance. I can’t concentrate on anything but how messy I’ve made this. I want to kick myself because confronting how I felt about her could have waited. But at the same time, being with someone who I don’t feel completely romantically attracted to was also very draining for me. This sucks.
It’s these two things that are battering me good and hard. I sat down between writing times and tried to journal, but my mind kept getting carried away and I immediately lost track of what I wanted to write. While writing a few basic stressors down, I realized today that I wasn’t really looking forward to anything. Usually there’s something I’m pumped about or am trying to accomplish. But right now, I’m just a bit hollow. And if not hollow, largely filled with worry, stress, and frustration. I sense that my field of vision (mental vision. My eyes are fine) is super narrow right now. And all of this sounds symptomatic of depression. Oh goodness. I’m reaching out to friends, talking about how stressed I am and about love and writing and everything else that’s on my mind. But I’m a wee bit worried.