I'm seriously depressed.
I can't get out of bed. I'm glued against the day. I'm not caring about anything anymore. I'm completely numb. I thought that this feeling would pass with just a little coaxing, but it's not. It's deep and dark and sinister and I'm too tired to struggle against it.
I wake up in the middle of the night and lay there, stewing in my own exas- peration. I tried to lay still, completely lifeless as if dead. I wondered if I did not move in the least if sleep would overtake me. But all that left me was wondering on my bed until the wee hours of the morning. Later, I wake up with the sheet over my head, in the fetus position. I can't move. I don't want to move. I still want to lay lifeless. I look at the clock, It's 6:00am. I need to take a shower but I really don't care how I smell. I'm dead.
It's 7:30am, I have to get up and go now. Get dressed. There's no time to do anything except get my clothes on and jet out of the door, but there is no jetting from my limbs today. They are awkward, like slabs of meat, pulled by thin strings that break easily. I am not going anywhere I just know it. I roll over, drape an arm off the side of the bed. I inhale. It takes effort. I feel like this day can go on without me. I do not need to be a part of anything living.
I hate to be dramatic, but that's just the way that I feel. Just consider yourself as me for an instant. Alone most of the time, only a computer between myself and the outside world. A room with four walls...now. Slowly disconnecting from everything and everyone. God...I hate it when I miss a dosage of WELLBUTRIN. It makes you want to miss more and more. It's a vicious circle. A long spiral of depression that can take ahold of you if you allow it. I don't allow it. I take my proper dosage finally for the day.
I sit down in front of my computer and just look at it, as if the damn thing has all the answers of the world on its screen. It does not have an answer for my not going in today. I don't have one either. I could not care less either. I sit still, hoping that the day would turn into the weekend. If today could already be Saturday. The day of the SHOUT OUT. A break from the crowding world. I would like to be at the SHOUT OUT now. It would give me something to do.
Tomorrow I have a feature at STARK. That should give me something to do. I've always liked the night before a feature, where I can get with my poems and pick out the ones that I want to read. I want to pass on the ones that are more performance art and dwell on the more introspective poems. The more heartfelt and less comedic ones. These are the pieces that I have been working on recently and I'm kinda liking how they are coming out. I'm touching on some sensitive parts of my being, the more personal, abstract. I would like to give some of these to my listeners. Instead of the ones where I sing or jump about. I think sometimes, poetry should just stick on the page.
I want to get back to my angst ridden poems. I have a lot to feel angry about. A lot to be discontent over. Like my current lack of any skills. I am pissed that I sent off my resume for that internship at Discover Magazine. I thought I had an 'inside line'...a fast lane for at least one of the spots. I really would have gone to my job developer or my case manager and ask if I could have done that as a WEP assignment. I really would have, just to hear them say no with a sense of relish.
I've sent out resumes into my prospective job market, but they are so swamped with people looking for jobs that they have a lot to pick from. So, they go after the college grads, and those with outstanding resumes in paper certifications. Fucking paper certifications, they are meaningless when the real shit hits the fan. People fail to realize that it takes experience in dealing with an array of problems with computers before you can successfully troubleshoot them. I have years of that experience. A lot good that it does me right now.
I'm sorry. I learned everything ON THE JOB, which should account for something. Hands on experience instead of passing some stupid test for a certificate. But no. Employers, when times are bad, go to the paper certs. Its a differentiation tool. These people paid good money to get their degrees, or certifications. I just went on an job and did the damn work. That doesn't mean as much. In fact, that doesn't mean shit.
Well, no wonder I take WELLBUTRIN!
OH you know how I feel about FEGS, so there's no reason to go there. I was supposed to see both my job developer and case manager this week, and I didn't go. I don't know what that means. Will I get something in the mail requesting another meeting? Will I get a de-merit? Will I get kicked out onto the streets? Don't you like thinking like this? It's fun for me too! Worried about the whims of others and what they can do to you ALL THE TIME. Obey, or be punished. You will be assimilated.
Fuck'em. I'm tired of worrying. I will be the thorn in their side. I'll be the grit in the shoe. Until I'm expunged.
Maybe I'll find a job by then.
Just about doing anything now.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/07/too-tired-to-fuck-system.html
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