Hating Being Manic - Depressive
I hate this illness. Today...I feel like such shit. Last night was Halloween and at some point I realized that I was without spirituality in my life, as if the goddess had left me, as if the magical thinking I'd come to rely on before was now buried in a pile of meds that *still* don't provide me with a sense of life purpose. I feel like I've lost my life purpose. Like I'm just going through the motions of being alive. Like I'm alive and wasting time. Like I'm trying to do and be and nothing's there.
On Day of the Dead
I don't have to work, you know. Social security takes care of my basic needs, and sometimes that feels like a scam but today it feels necessary and also like a prison sentence. I try to write stuff everyday...i'm working on a project, but I don't have work with deadlines and that makes me feel like I just have these huge swaths of time to fill with nothing in particular. I wish I had other skills. I wish I made stuff. I wish I was carving a stone or a piece of wood but I know nothing about that stuff. Everything I make looks terrible anyway.