Binge Frustration

I’m sorry for harassing the blogging community today, but I’m on a binge currently.

More so, I forgot about my doctor’s appointment today and missed it. 

Why?

Because I’m a fucking idiot, that’s why.

It’s… UGH.

I’M SO FRUSTRATED WITH MYSELF.

I take 2 Lorazepam yesterday and it fucks everything up. I’m so behind on work I need to do. I’m trying my best to help Calvin since he’s stressed. That’s my problem.

I have issues telling people when I need help and how they can help me. I just blindly try to keep doing things on my own and end up fucking everything up. Then I pick up the pieces for everyone else when I can’t even pick up the pieces to my own life.

Probably because my life isn’t in pieces that can be picked back up gingerly.

Everything is fragmented. The more I think about one task, the more I think about 5 other tasks that go with it. Each of those 5 tasks have 5 other tasks to go with them. It keeps going until I become increasingly overwhelmed and cease the ability to function. Each time I try to pick up one piece, something else falls or I scratch myself or I don’t even fucking know. 

I’m just pretty tired of feeling like this.

But of course, I’m too much of a fuck-up to do much about it.

Like going to my doctor’s appointments.

Fuck. Me.

I remember about…. 3 months ago making a diagram of things that are rewarding and things that are stressing me out. I think I’ll make another one of those.

I already know the scales have been quite altered. School is no where near as large as a stress as it used to be. Work and Calvin though… haven’t been as… rewarding is the best way to put it. They aren’t necessarily stressing me out as much, but they aren’t exactly making me feel any better about myself.

God, that sounds so selfish.

I can’t have it all, can I?

I’m just ready to go to sleep and it’s 3:30 PM. 

*Fuming frustration*

That One Sex Post

This post is very personal and will probably get me into a lot if trouble. At the same time, this is my journal for when things are clogging up my mind.

This happens to just be extremely personal not just for me though.

Here’s to it: that one sex post.

I have been sexually active since I was 17. It was with my third boyfriend, Sean. We first started sleeping together after we had been dating for about 6 months. I was so comfortable around him. Of course I was self-conscious and we were both awkward, but I’ll never regret him as my first. Ever. Every part of my body that I hated, he took it and made it feel beautiful.

That was something I never expected from him that now I’ve come to expect from myself.

I had always thought that after Sean and I broke up, I’d probably sleep around with guys. Don’t get me wrong, the opportunities were there. Multiple times from parties, guys would try to take me home. I never did though. I don’t even really know what stopped me either. I was single, on birth control, and had no prospective guys that were viable options to date. I didn’t have a thing to loose.

I’m okay that I didn’t sleep with any of them though.

Especially now that I’m with Calvin.

He scared me, though.

It took me 6 months to sleep with Sean. It took just over 24 hours to sleep with Calvin.

I will probably never get over that small fact. I don’t know why. I’ve tried asking Calvin if it bothers him, but I don’t get the impression that it does.

Not only am I still becoming comfortable around him as a person, my body and sexuality… It’s a lot of handle.

Especially since I hadn’t experimented much with how to please myself until well after Sean and I had started sleeping together.

It’s still very new to me. Calvin believes I’m much more experienced than I am. That puts a lot of pressure on me.

Also, not very often with him have I been completely satisfied. It’s not that the sex isn’t great. It is. It just takes me more to come than simple sex.

I also give him a lot if attention. Now, he tells me what he likes. It took us a while to get there, but now he’s comfortable.

It’s not reciprocated and I know I should just talk to him about it but fuck is that awkward.

Especially when I’m in the mood and he isn’t. Usually I’m the one who isn’t in the mood rejecting sex from people. It’s not fun being in the opposite chair. It’s also incredible embarrassing and awkward.

This entire thing is awkward.

I’m awkward.

Sex is awkward.

But shit is it important.

Never-Ending Struggle

I’m feeling a little more personal this morning.

More than likely because yesterday was so messed up.

I freak out more than I should for my music therapy stuff. Every time I have to perform, the class never has comments to give me. My TA has maybe one technical comment, but they always say how well I’m doing. It’s self inflicted pressure that I don’t know how to eliminate.

So much so that I had to take a sedative before class yesterday.

That threw everything out of balance.

After class, I literally couldn’t function. It was a miracle I showed up to work yesterday. I didn’t get anything I needed to done.

Then, of course late at night after the effects had worn off I started to have yet another one.

It never ends or goes away. Once it starts, it’s hard to stop it. I get upset that I even start to have one and that amplifies the feelings tenfold.

It’s beginning to seep into every part of my life. I simply can’t let it be.

I have some complaints about other things, but I’ll save that post for later today.

Saxophone Issues

My car is on and running.

My friends are all inside getting their horns examined.

While they were starting to give me a headache, I also had to leave due to my anxiety.

Stephanie and Eric were right in front of me playing. I felt the panic begin to rise and the longer they all played, the worse I felt. It isn’t their fault. Not in the slightest. I just have a lot if issues right now.

Even the thought of holding a saxophone right now causes me anxiety.

This is beyond terrible and I’m not sure what to do.

Recharge

At times, this world doesn’t seem big enough.

My world certainly isn’t big enough.

There are so many people, so many personalities, so many ticks, so many languages, so much knowledge, and I know so little of it.

I’m not sure what bothers me more.

Knowing I will never know it all no matter how much I spread myself and broaden my horizons…

Or that even those around me remain an enigma – including myself.

And I’m constantly burdened by the fault that is in every human.

It’s selfish, I know.

I value a few broad things and detest their antonyms.

Selflessness ranks high. Selfishness, extremely low.

Selflessness breeds kindness and generosity. It is considerate and thoughtful. It requires insight and intellect. In purity, it is true and honest. The act of giving is beautiful. I try to give to those that I feel closest to every day, whether it be giving a ride, advice, or an actual tangible gift. I love to give. My dad says I get that from my mom, but I get it from him too. Both of my parents gave themselves completely to everything they loved – their careers, their family, and each other.

That’s the kind of love I want. That’s the kind of life I want.

Intellect ranks high. Stupidity, extremely low.

This is why I am so harsh on myself. I was raised with high expectations and therefore have higher expectations for myself. A graduate degree of some sort is a must. Expanding my knowledge beyond my field of study is mandatory. Simple errors like spelling and grammar are inexcusable. Of course, my style of writing breaks that quite a bit… or a lot. A lot. I am to be well-rounded. I am to sound like an educated individual. Knowledge is power when it is put into action. To be logical and rational is to be mature and sophisticated. Intellect maintains stability.

I have always been a quick study at nearly everything I do.

I am fiercely loyal to those who I am close to. I take rejection of my gifts or offers of assistance very personally. I think everything through in a million different ways. I play scenarios out in my head. A simple phrase of “I’m upset” or “I can’t believe it” makes my brain go on overdrive.

My brain is almost always on overdrive.

Until I burn myself out and have to recharge. Much like yesterday and today.

Calvin had no idea I went home to my parents’ place. Nicole was terrified yesterday before I left. I know here I am safe – here, I won’t debate picking up a razor blade too quickly.

That’s what drove me home last night. It scared me how strong my desire was to get back to my apartment just so I could cut again. That was after a few cigarettes too. That isn’t a good sign at all.

I’m still pretty burnt out. I didn’t really get time to recharge.

I don’t really get time to recharge.

I should probably change my availability at work. I need to do something about this.

I need to have at least one day a week where I’m not doing anything.

No work. No school. No obligations. Just me.

Just me and myself working on me and myself.

Insignificance, Incompetence, and Inferiority

I’m finding myself increasingly frustrated with my person.

Questions from people make me question my own self-worth. It’s pretty miserable.

It’s little things. It’s the questions from people for the last two years. “Are you still a music major?” “Are you music therapy too?” “Are you still in the studio?” “Are you in SAI?” “Do you still do music?”

Technically, yes. Yes to all these questions. That’s what my degree audit says. Well, almost.

I still haven’t had Dr. Tse sign the sheet saying I’m music therapy officially. It’s a reminder in my phone.

I’m feeling more and more incompetent. It’s a sickening feeling that sinks to the bottom of your spine and festers. 

I’ve been dying for a cigarette all day. I had one last night before I saw Calvin and Dennis. I’m not sure when I’m going to be able to go out an have one. I’m watching some friends’ belongings then I’m waiting for another friend to get done practicing so we can go to class.

I’m tired of things not being on my terms. I don’t have a strong enough will. It’s disgusting. I tried to stay home a couple of times and not with Calvin just because Leo was crying a lot and I wanted to drink and be by myself.

Of course, he convinced me to come over.

Because I can’t do anything on my own.

It just makes me infuriatingly mad. 

I don’t like other people having this kind of power over me. It’s beyond frustrating. I don’t like feeling like I’m not in control. 

I know one lie. I can get through my next class without a cigarette. 

I will make it.

I will also just let the others go into the mall without me for a few minutes. That’s when I’m having my cigarette. Or two. 

Is that better than cutting?

Well, it’s apparently less noticeable. 

My heart is just thumping. Hammering. 

I am not in control of my substance, so I rely upon substance to control me. 

For the last week, I’ve just been battling feelings of insignificance, incompetence, and inferiority.