Monthly Archives: January 2013


I teach a class at eight a.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays. Despite the atrocious time, I am excited about it because I finally get to teach a freshman composition class for the first time since grad school. (I’ve been teaching mostly developmental writing, as my tutoring position chiefly involves helping students in developmental writing. I do like teaching developmental writing, but I’ve been wanting to broaden what I teach.)

My class ran a few minutes past its ending time, and I had to discuss a couple of matters with students who were absent last week. Meanwhile, the students from the next class filtered in. I tried to hurry so I could vacate before the next class would start.

I gathered my stuff and rushed to the door. At the same time, the instructor for the next class walked in. He looked at me and said, “Where’re you going?” Puzzled, I replied, “I’m leaving.” He seemed a bit taken aback by this, so I explained that I taught the class before his.

He said he thought I was one of his students because I looked familiar. (Well, I was at the adjunct instructor composition meeting.) Apparently he thought I looked young like a student, too. I repeated that I was the instructor for the previous class, a “composition” class. He apologized, and, flustered, I responded that it was okay and disappeared as quickly as I could.

Only after I was gone did I realize that I could’ve pointed out that I’d met him at the adjunct meeting. See how unmemorable I am? I clearly remembered him, but he didn’t much recall me.

It probably didn’t help that I was wearing a backpack. (I used to use a messenger bag, but it tore up. That left me with the backpack as my only bag for carrying class materials.)

I was so embarrassed by it all.

It’s been so humid (and warm) today that I’ve been feeling sick. There’s a reason humidity is the weather condition I dislike the most. It’s odd that I, who grew up in a humid place, am so affected by the humidity.

I’ve decided that my return to blogging will be gradual. As I mentioned yesterday, the idea of returning overwhelms me. Plus, I need to have a little time for my creative writing.

But I think I figured out what is making me most antsy: it’s my social anxiety. Just as I get cripplingly nervous when I see people I haven’t talked to for a long time (a long time can even be a week), I’m feeling petrified about the idea of returning to the blogging world. As with the former situation, it might even take a little dissociation before I can feel comfortable again.


Filed under General Musing


I feel as if my heart’s been shattered. I don’t know why.

Could you cradle me in your arms and let me weep on your shoulders, pour my heart out until it’s empty, it burns no more?

If only I could throw a glass against the wall and watch as the shards bury themselves in your skin.

If only I could hurt you as much as you hurt me.

The meek piece of shit realizes you don’t want her here.

She’ll take her revenge then leave you alone.

(Don’t worry. I don’t know who I’m talking to, either.)


Filed under Mental Health

Flighty and Overwhelmed

I am almost finished with the rough draft of my novel. But there as with here, I find myself bereft of words. I know what’s supposed to happen with the final scenes, but I can’t figure out how to write them without sounding hokey. Actually, the whole idea is hokey, but I think it’s the right ending. A couple of plotlines go unresolved, and I’m worried by that.

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say I may finish this week. But it feels anticlimactic somehow; the idea barely registers. Finishing, though, overwhelms me for a couple of reasons. One, I’ll need to read over what I wrote and fix the typos (and more major errors). There are some parts I cringe at because they seem too laughably extreme. Then there are the ones that’re lopsided because they didn’t go according to plan.

But returning to blogging-land overwhelms me, too. Not that I don’t want to; I want to very much. But there are several factors. First, even if I’m not writing my novel’s rough draft, I don’t think I can be as active as I once was, both as a reader and a writer. Then there’s my insecurity that I’m not really wanted, etc. Or even if I am, I should just fade away anyway.

I realized something the other day. I want recognition, but I want to be anonymous at the same time. How can I be both? When people at a store start recognizing me, I stop going there.

Where was I?

Oh, there’s the adventure blog. I do plan on giving it another go, but as I said, I’m overwhelmed. It may be a while.

I’m teaching two classes this semester, one at eight in the morning. My sleep schedule is all messed up, and I’m trying to fix it. Nighttime used to be blog time for me, but now I’m going to have to try to find another time for it.

As I think I’ve mentioned before, I’m seeing a new therapist now. She’s young, and I already feel more comfortable with her than I did with my previous one. We’ll find out if that lasts. I’m seeing her once a week, but I might switch to once every other week if I get too overwhelmed (see how easily overwhelmed I am)?

I keep having these daydreams of being a known literary figure. I wish it could come true one day, but alas, that’s not a realistic idea. 😦 Grandiose fantasies never work out.

My therapist thinks journaling will help me, which is a reason I think I should return to blogging. Blogging helps me sort through the strands floating in my head, the strands that scream, that I can’t understand unless I unravel them. (I haven’t told my therapist about my blog. I never told my other one, either. I don’t know if I’ll ever tell a therapist about it; the idea makes me too nervous.)

So, without further ado, after all that rambling, I’m going to get straight to how I feel right now.

I haven’t been doing too well during the past week. It’s a shame, because I had a pretty good week right before that. It’s possible that I’m in a manic or mixed episode, I suppose. Bipolarity’s relationship to me is still murky. Ideas for stories keep flashing in my mind, but that’s the extent of my flight of ideas. Then I feel this urgency, like it all needs to be done now, but then I get anxious, and it spins, and I can’t keep up with it all. My head sometimes does that woozy, feverish thing. It knocks into my consciousness and makes everything feel distorted. Every noise makes me jump; I’m hyperaware of things when I am aware of them. But for the must part, I’m barely aware of anything.

There’s a crippling insecurity, a desire to sabotage myself and make people think I’m a terrible employee. Not that I’ve acted on that urge; I’m too meek for that.

Last week, I talked to my therapist about some of these things. I don’t remember how it came up, but she mentioned that, sometimes when they’re most depressed, people aren’t motivated to do anything. That’s why the idea of a breakdown is hazy to me, why I don’t think I can ever be sure if I’m having a real breakdown or not. Oftentimes my motivation is just not to be noticed, not to trouble anyone or draw attention to myself. If that’s my only motivation to seem functioning, does that mean I haven’t hit rock bottom? During the big break, because I took care to seem fine, did I not really have a breakdown? Am I so weak that a pseudo-breakdown crippled me so?

I keep getting headaches. I haven’t self-harmed in months; it’s not like I ever really did, anyway. Not more than superficially at least. But I keep wanting to do that. Problem is, I can’t think of a place that won’t be visible. I’m paranoid, so many areas that might not seem visible are included in that category. Well, there are a few spots, but that would require more than my timid self can accomplish. It’s too hard, and then I feel inadequate because my attempt is failing.

Instead, I’ve taken to digging my fingernails into my palms. It produces nothing other than indentations that quickly fade.

At the beginning of this year, I suddenly realized how truly fat I am. I knew I was fat, and I said it a lot, but it didn’t fully register. So I decided I need to start eating healthier. But there’s a problem: I can’t because I’m too pathetic.

I’ll explain. I decided the first step would be to curtail my fast food intake and eat less snack food. But over the past few days, I’ve been turning to them as much as usual. Food is one of the main ways I cope with my depression, and when I’m at my worst like this, it’s difficult to restrain myself. I just need a pick-me-up, I tell myself.

Then I’m confronted with the fact that half my clothes don’t fit and they never will because I’m a pathetic food addict, using food to comfort myself.

Since my psychiatrist has substituted Lexapro for Prozac, my anxiety has been higher. Occasionally almost so high that I need to avoid everything and just sit with my eyes closed. I thought the Lexapro was working better as a whole, though, until I hit this spell.

When I’m at work, I keep feeling like there are eyes on me, like everyone’s secretly eyeing me with hatred.

So that’s the long of it, what’s been happening with me.

I think I will be returning to the blogosphere more regularly next week. I should be done with my rough draft then, if not before (although I have to help my mom with something this week, so I most likely won’t be blog-ready if I do finish before next week). I’ll probably start reading y’all’s blogs again, although now I feel uneasy about how much I’ve missed.


Filed under Mental Health


The more time I spend away from my blog, the less stuff I can think of to write about.

But that’s not the purpose of this post. Oh, no.

This is an explanation (for anyone who’s still around, anyway) about why I’m playing truant in blogland longer than I meant to. I mentioned my intention to go AWOL for NaNoWriMo right before November, and I’d really thought that I was going to be back as soon as December struck.

But then I wanted to continue working on my novel, and of course, there were the holidays.

I continue to work on my novel. In some ways, it’s as if I spend more time in my novel’s world than the real one. I don’t really, but that’s where my mind seems to constantly dwell.

I knew I wouldn’t finish the novel during NaNoWriMo, but I never thought that, in January, I’d be almost as close to finishing it as I am right now. Like with my 2010 NaNo novel, I figured it would take me until at least May or June to finish it. But as I said, the story is so prominent in my head at the moment, and I keep hopping from event to event and keeping up the flow (although there have been quite a few dried-up wells, too). It’s odd that this novel seems to be coming to me naturally. I’m not a good story planner, but with this novel, I truly had no idea of what I wanted to do other than the beginning and end. I had a basic one-sentence-ish major plot in mind, but that’s just become one of a number of plots that seem to get equal coverage.

I know I’m pretty close to the end of the novel, so I’m avoiding many other activities. Especially in blogging land, I can get sucked in for so many hours that I disrupt the flow of my creative writing. I’ve discovered that even if I skip one day of writing, my rhythm is interrupted. So I try to write every day, even when I’m busy. Just a few words can help me maintain the rhythm.

I thoroughly appreciate all of my readers; I feel guilty for not keeping up with people as much as I should’ve been over the past couple of months. I’ve been a terrible Internet friend lately. 😦

So, here’s my explanation, and I hope you understand.

Oh, and I’ve started seeing a new therapist; I saw her for the second time yesterday. I think that’s a topic I’d normally blog about, but as my thoughts are with my novel . . . not so much at this time. So the old therapist I was getting frustrated with . . . I’ve moved on, and hopefully it will all work out.

I forget to mention the adventure blog, although maybe I should post an announcement there, too. I’m putting all adventure blog stuff on hold until I finish my novel’s rough draft so I can keep up my focus with the draft. Since there’ll have been so much time between the reboot and the past installments, I’m contemplating starting it over. New characters or the same ones? New setting? I don’t know. I could also decide to continue the story, as I do like it. But I’m afraid the continuity would’ve been disrupted, and it might be easier to draw people in if I start over. Ugh, but then I’d lose the subscribers from the current version . . . hmm. I could maybe make all the previous posts private so I could start over, or something. I don’t know. I’ll worry about those logistics later.


Filed under General Musing