bakapyrite (bakapyrite) wrote,
bakapyrite
bakapyrite

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Wake up

It's been a while since I've made a self-analytical post. There are a couple reasons.

Usually I'm feeling a bit stressed and/or depressed when I feel the need to express what's going on in my life. I suppose it's a bit like putting it to "paper" gets it out of my head.

The other reason is that, knowing myself, I write about all these things that I'd like to achieve and then, having written them to "paper", generally forget about them. In a way that's a restatement of reason #1, but the point is that when I'm not thinking about something, I'm not acting on that thing.

So right now I'm not feeling especially depressed or stressed. But I'm not really happy about life, either. Right now I'd like to move from "living life" to "content", if not "happy". Let's see where I stand and what I can do about it.

Things that annoy me about myself:

My sleeping habit is fairly awful. I tend to fall asleep anywhere between 1am and 3am, and I usually crawl out of bed around 11am, just enough time to sit around doing nothing while waking up and getting ready for work. I just can't seem to get myself in gear until such time as I'm forced to get ready for work or be late. Given something to distract me, like reading a book or a new game, I can stay up until 5 or 6am, which puts some further pressure on my time on the next few days (although this usually happens on Friday nights or weekend days anyways.)

I lack energy and motivation. This is almost certainly tied in to the prior entry, but it's also it's own thing. While I'm in my apartment on the weekends I'll feel exhausted. I might need to do my laundry, and that isn't much in the way of physical exertion, but I tend to wait until the last couple hours to do it. Driving down to Freetown is also usually a bit of a chore, because I don't tend to want to get even vaguely active until about 5pm or so, but most things that happen down there are at noon or 1pm or so.

I'm overweight. This is probably one of the great influencing factors on the first two items. I can blame being overweight for having no energy or motivation, but that doesn't actually cause any pounds to fall off. It's a vicious cycle: I feel like I waste a lot of time because I have no energy, I have no energy because I'm fat, I'm fat because I don't spend time taking care of myself, I waste time because I have no energy, etc. Ok, so here's where this paragraph might have ended in the past, but that's not going to cut it. I need a plan of action. One that I can commit to.

Interpersonal issues

Moving to Boston has been an interesting experience. I have far more varied shopping available to me and there are many more people around me. Despite that, I'm on my own a lot more often. I don't really mention that as a complaint, because I don't dislike solitude, but certain relationships have become a bit more distant.

Bill. Bill is a person, but Bill is also a problem. If I wanted to be a hippy I could think about how he's flesh and blood like I am, and that I should respect him more. But.. Bill is different. Bill is enthusiastic. Bill is overenthusiastic. Bill needs a friend, or several. But the social circuitry in Bill's head is fused. He is a neverending source of vocal volume, but much like a tempest in a teacup, his refrain is full of sound and fury and, yes, it signifies nothing. I like my thinking to be clean and logical. I want the brain in my head to be focused, like clockwork. Bill sends out mental tremors from just about the moment he comes into a person's presence, shatters the gears of delicate clockwork, causes springs to pierce the face of the clock to escape the voluminous energy that he emits. It's not that I dislike Bill. But after knowing him for over a decade, and knowing that he is probably never going to change, I start to feel like it's time to give up and move on. My ear is sore, my brain is still vibrating, and on my darkest day the fears that I might express will still seem like sunshine compared to the near-constant worrying about everything under the sun that he'll never be able to control. That said, I've said all along that he is free to visit, because small doses aren't that bad, and maybe, just maybe, he'll broaden his horizons one day. But.. I guess Boston is too far away.

Jim. I'm not entirely sure what to feel about Jim. He's getting on with his life, going to college, etc. I know that, for him, Boston is not too far away. But he's busy, and so I don't interfere, because I'd like to see him succeed. He was going to stop by a month or two ago and then didn't. Beyond that there haven't been any plans to hang out for a while now. But I'm not bothered by that. Part of the point of moving to Boston was to see what happened. If he's busy and doesn't have the time, I'm patient. Someday we might not even live in MA anymore, but it would be nice to see him every so often while we're still around.

Mason. My relationship with Mason has had it's ups and downs. Ultimately, in life, it makes me happy to see people I know be happy and succeed. By the same token, seeing a person get injured empathetically injures the viewer, or, in this case, me. Mason's had a lot of bad experiences. Some, maybe even a large portion of them, have been inflicted upon him by himself. It's a bit like being the friend of a person who's a card carrying scissor runner. You want to take the scissors out of their hand, but the scissors are also an extention of themselves, which, I guess, means they're glued on. Every time they trip and gouge themselves, though, if you're their friend then your own eyes bleed just a little, for a little while. Right now I almost feel as though his most recent fall caused the side of his face to become detached, and it's floating in the wind. He gets up feels his face, and realizes the pain he's in. Then some new finish line somewhere in the distance catches his eye, and even though the pain probably won't let him forget about it entirely, he suddenly seems to lurch along uncaring about the fact that he's still probably fairly deeply injured. Ultimately, the real injury is whatever originally caused some scissors to be glued to his hand, because most people's hands are metaphorically empty in this scenario, and most scissors can eventually be dropped.

Some closing thoughts

Ironically, looking back at what I wrote, I said I'd want to come up with a plan to commit to for excersize - and then the thought ended. In terms of energy and in terms of my life's work I feel as though I'm mired and don't know where to look to make the first step out of whatever I've sunk myself in. It's the beginning of the month - time to go check out the local gym and see if something like that might not be able to help me out. I need to just say "screw it" and do it.

I think I had some other thoughts to write about, but this post has taken a long time already. If I think of anything especially burning I'll just make a new post, I guess.
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