I’m not sure what to write about right now. I’m hoping that if I start babbling with my weary fingers, that the pace will liven up. I’m thinking a lot. That sounds like such a prosaic statement. “I’m thinking a lot.” It’s like when people say, “I have a lot of feelings.” What does that mean? Everyone has a lot of feelings. Are they trying to say that they have mixed feelings? Communication is so important to me, and yet I make statements like that. But it’s because I’m manic. And I have racing thoughts. But both of those things are so clinical-sounding to me. And I don’t want to talk about my disorder right now; I want to talk about what it’s doing to me. I want to talk about my Self, and not myself. I’m not sure if I’m communicating this well or not.
Things jump in and out of my mind. I can’t think about one thing for too long. I can’t focus and it sucks. But I’m cycling like never before. It’s daily. I spent the whole morning thinkingthinkingthinking and when I sat down for too long that changed as rapidly as the pictures had turned in my mind to... weariness. It hurt to move and I felt like I’d never get things done. But then I did all of it. I want to slow down, but I don’t want to stop, either. Right now I’m kind of shaky
I think I’m trying to outline where my Self is sitting, but I don’t have it figured out yet. It’s funny. The girls in my pledge class are already thinking about slating. They think I should be president. Do I really look like I have my shit together? I guess I do in a way. I get good grades. I am super involved, and I do a good job in those organizations. I guess I’m the Ideas and Issues chairperson on Union Board now. But I guess I have to convince myself of that. I’d be just as successful if I didn’t stress out so much. It’s not that I have so much to do. It’s that I am scared that I won’t do it well. <-- That was an epiphany.
Those of you who read my blog probably have mixed thoughts (or just plain realistic ideas) of the kind of person I am. I’ve defined my beliefs (or lack thereof) for the first time. I am beginning to love my body. I’m learning that who I am is okay, and it’s not my fault if someone doesn’t like me. It isn’t a failing. I'm finding joy in my studies. I'm finding joy in being informed. I get all of that when I’m doing well. But I’m not always doing well. Sometimes I’m going to self harm, and sometimes I’m going to make mistakes that hurt me in different ways. I don’t always have my shit together. But even when I don’t, no one really knows it. I don’t let people see me cry. But you all have in some way or another. I like to think I’ve been pretty honest with you. I’m making mistakes, but I’m still going. And you're here to witness it.