My least favorite part of BlogSpot is that I can't hit the 'tab' button. I just have to type a bunch of spaces if I want to start a new paragraph and be grammatically correct. Which I usually like to be. So. . .it's kinda shitty. Also the spellcheck sucks.
I haven't been to work since Monday evening, and so I worked one day last week. I'm going to be broke as fuck. I should probably stop smoking cigarettes, because that would save me a lot of money. And I've tried like six times to quit but I mean. . . . My parents didn't raise a quitter. . you know ? Every time I've gone swimming this summer I've had to stop after like a half of a minute to cough and wheeze. It's pathetic. Smoker's lungs, you know ? And I know I'd be healthier, I know I'd be happier and I know my skin, teeth, hair, all that would look better if I would just grow a vagina and quit. But it's like. . I'm in the midst of my probation. . can't smoke pot. . can't take almost any drugs. . can't drink. . can't life. . and when all of your friends are smoking pot, it kinda just. . kills you if you can't smoke anything. And I know there's all these cheats and ways around probation and how to drop clean even if you smoke and blah blah blah. . but I'm the one who fucked up, so I gotta serve my time. It's just a year, but a year's a long time when you're a pothead to the extent that I am. Was ? Am ? I don't even know. I just know that the THC withdrawal sucks, and that's it's hard to get to sleep, and that I feel really depressed a lot of the time. I was doing so much better, and then just. . bam. I'm not blaming my depression, since I don't think depression exists. Everyone's sad. Everyone's always been sad. But now they have labels to put on the sadness, just like they have labels to put on everything and everyone else. I know some people have it worse than others, I know that even though I've been 'clinically evaluated" as having manic depression, there are people who haven't been diagnosed with anything who sometimes feel like ending their life is the right thing to do just because they can't handle the sadness anymore. I wish I could help them. And I wish I knew how to help them. And I wish that some of these people wanted help. I know I can put it out there that, no matter who you are, you can come to me if you're sad or angry or upset, if you need to vent or just someone to talk to, that I'll be there for you, no matter who you are. And I also know that a lot of people say this. The thing is, not a lot of people will take you up on that offer. Because some people just don't have the words to say to explain how they feel. I know because I usually don't. When I'm upset, I just draw into myself. My boyfriend will ask me how he can help, and I just shrug because I don't know. If I knew what would help, I'd help myself. It's hard to feel positive when you don't know what's wrong.
In other news, this morning when I woke up, I had three cats lying on me. Indica, Ricky, and Ghost all had crept in sometime in the early morning after Nick had left for work, and positioned themselves all over my like a fluffy, adorable blanket full of meows and purrs. Between that and the lovely note that Nick left for me, I had the best early-morning-cough-fest ever.
If you haven't listened to the instrumental of Crywolf's Angels EP, you're missing out. You can listen to it here.
Well, I guess I have to get ready for work. And by that, I mean defeat the next gym leader in Pokémon Y. It's been real. Hope you guys all have a fantastic day~
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