Mood hasn’t gotten much better since the last time I wrote a week ago. Well, it actually has, but I’m in a shitty mood right now. As always, stressed about the job search. I put in 3 apps yesterday, I just put one in, but there literally aren’t any new job listings in my zip code that I haven’t already seen. I’d love to plug away and put in 10 apps a day until I finally found a job, but there just aren’t that many jobs around here.

Like every day that goes by that I haven’t found a job, I just lose hope. I’m wondering why I’m even going through this whole charade. I keep consistently putting in job apps, and I keep consistently not even getting a damn rejection courtesy email. Before I used to get a fair amount of interviews (but not get the job) but now it seems like I’m not even getting interviews. I know a very common way my anxiety manifests itself is in my tendency to follow through every situation to it’s terrible possible conclusion, but when is this shit going to end?

I’m pretty much down to the minimum amount that you can have in your savings account and still keep it active. My parents are paying my bills right now with the stipulation that I begin paying them back once I secure employment (if, I mean, at this rate).

I’m just so disappointed in myself. When I think back on first moving here, this isn’t at all how I thought things would go. I had a full time, decent paying job, I had an apartment, I could afford rent and bills… fast forward to now, I’m literally in a constant state of anxiety, where it’s an accomplishment if I can even do dishes and take a shower in the same day, nevermind actually boiling water and even making myself ramen.

I get so depressed because it seems like the only way to have a job back again is to go back to the call center. Which I can’t do, because I get upset just thinking about how hard it was for me there, especially the last like 4-5 months I was there. I mean, I could pay my bills, but that was about the only thing. And then I just hate myself because I know there are people that deal with far worse situations than me and haven’t completely lost their damn minds.

I mean, take this with a grain of salt because I drank a bit last night so I didn’t take my meds.

That’s how I know I have a problem, I get anxious about my anxiety meds. It would be funny if I wasn’t trying not to cry in public writing a damn blog entry like the lame ass nerd I am. What I meant to say is, it seems like I don’t even enjoy my non stressed moments because then I’m insecure about the fact that it seems like I can’t even miss my meds for ONE DOSE because I can definitely feel it.

How the hell am I supposed to be an independent adult with my brain being against me at every single turn?

And the most frustrating thing is, there are two local establishments that regularly post job openings, and if my application isn’t still active from the last time, I apply every single time, and yet I consistently don’t even get a damn interview. I didn’t think a chain pizza joint (it rhymes with pizza tut) was that discerning with their employment. I couldn’t even get a damn interview at the golden arches fast food place that I can literally see from my living room window.

And then I start to dwell on my past mistakes. I fucked up so much before, (even somewhat recently, i.e. my last job) that maybe all those mistakes are hurting my chances at employment.

This isn’t anything I can take to my parents because they either go “See we told you blahblahblahblah” or “I keep telling you to blahblahblahblah but you don’t and now see where you are” or whatever in not so many words.

I mean I literally mention my guilt about the past in every single therapy session I have, and yet it still consistently comes up in each subsequent therapy session.

It’s so exhausting living in a state of constant (most likely) unfounded guilt. Guilty about what I did before, guilty for what I’m doing now, guilty for what I’m GOING to do, it’s like christ, I feel guilty just for being alive on the planet. I basically ruined my parents lives by being born and turning in a piece of shit, and I’m still ruining it. My dad gets disability and can’t currently work at his part time job yet (he’s recovering from rotator cuff surgery) and my mom makes way less money at her current job but they’re currently paying my bills, giving me gas money… shit, dad gave me forty bucks before I left their house on Sunday from spending the weekend. And I don’t deserve any of it. Dad was right when he said I was a burden on everyone’s life, because all I do is cost them money and stress them out. Even my sister, it seems like, because when am I not messaging her when I’m really upset but don’t want to stress out my other anxiety having friends about it? When you really think about it, people would have been so much better off without me having been born into the universe.

And it’s hard to give a fuck about your unemployment when you kind of wish you’d never been born


I wasn’t even going to write anything but I have like 45 minutes to kill before my therapy appointment and I’m so not going home for that little amount of time.

Let’s see. This past week and a half have sucked a huge diseased scrotum. Last night was the first night in a week and a half that I haven’t had completely shitty sleep. I’m talking, go to bed at 10, wake up at midnight, up until 2-3, then can only sleep until 5am kind of thing. And that wasn’t even the worst one. This is probably the most stressed I’ve ever been, second only to when I worked at the call center I used to work at.

If I’m going to be this stressed all the time, I may as well just fucking go back to that dump. At least I’ll be able to pay my bills. But I know that really wouldn’t work that well. Facebook having their on this day bullshit serves as more than a vehicle for outdated memes, it reminds me of certain things. And my anxiety was literally the worst it’s ever been in my life the last 5-6 months I worked there.

I would sob every morning before work, sob at work before work started, sob intermittently throughout the day, then immediately upon getting home for the day, I would get really upset that I’d have to do the whole song and dance over again the next day. It was pure hell. So I know going back really isn’t an option, unless I want my mental faculties to deteriorate even more.

As of yet I have been able to avoid relapsing into self harm, but man, picture this; I’m sitting on the couch, sobbing, holding my phone which is blaring some random Paul McCartney song. And I mean I’m sobbing so hard that I know if I get up in the next 15 minutes self harm is going to happen. I’m able to hold this shit off because I don’t really want to have to explain to people that my mental health has really sucked that bad in the recent past.

But it’s like, holy fucking ballsack, I can’t keep doing this.

I’m waiting to hear back about a job. Little over a week ago I applied to have a temporary position at an art gallery (it’s only open during the summer/early fall). That was a week ago. I’ve been stressing to fucking asgard and back several times over since then.

I say this over and over because it’s true, but I really am looking. I’m trying so fucking hard to find a job. I monitor the online job board I use constantly, sometimes several times in a single day. It’s not that I’m not trying. It’s just that, my anxiety is literally so bad, that lately I’ve fallen back into that “Hey let’s only shower once every 3-4 days, and let the dishes pile up until we’re literally out of clean dishes, silverware, and pots to cook shit in, meanwhile let’s move the xbox and tv into the bedroom and literally spend 2 days straight in bed while a majority of your sustenance is the jar of peanut butter on your bedside table, eaten with your finger because REMEMBER HOW ALL THE SILVERWARE IS DIRTY” etc. When it’s literally a huge chore just to get myself to take a fucking bath and do a single load of dishes (not to mention laundry which literally gets left until we’re on our last pair of clean underwear and they’re the ones you hate to wear because they don’t really fit right), it’s really hard to also work on getting a job.

In fact my anxiety was so bad just this morning that a likely perfectly innocuous text from my dad asking how the job hunt was going was enough to send me spiraling into an hours long episode of extreme anxiety.

I’m sure he meant it fine, but I’m sorry if it’s hard to hear the phrase and not picture him lecturing me on how much I need a job and he’s not just saying it to rag on me he wants me to better myself and blahblah FUCKING BLAH I FUCKING KNOW ALREADY SWEET LEFT NUT OF THE ZOMBIE JESUS I FUCKING KNOW.

I know my parents resent me, and I can’t say I blame them. I’m fucking 30 and I can barely get myself to shower and cook a real meal in the same day (let alone week, fucking hell). In a fit of hormonal rage (my mom had a hysterectomy but still has her ovaries, hence she still gets a Hell Mood once a month) my mother not only went “Oh you’re gonna cry now oh look at me I have depression”, but also said “Every dollar we spend helping you is a dollar we don’t have to go on another trip”.

And dad, I haven’t been able to really hear anything he’s ever said to me since he told me I was a burden on everyone’s life and I had no prospects. I am a burden on everyone’s life. I don’t contribute anything really meaningful to society or anyone’s life at all, I don’t even fucking know why I’m here to start with. All I do is cost people money and cause them huge fucking headaches. My mother should have had a goddamn abortion and saved the world the trouble.

Like everything I do for people is not to do something for them and just a bullshit attempt to make myself feel better for being nothing but a terrible fuckup. I should just pack up all my shit and jump in front of a bus.

I’m on fucking housing assistance at fucking 30 years old, with no way to pay my bills. My dad said they’d pay them for the time being and then I would just owe them money but holy shit do you know how much money I owe my fucking parents? I don’t see how I’m ever going to pay that shit. I can’t keep a job to save my fucking life. Even when I try really hard it doesn’t fucking matter.

Anxiety is a chronic condition. I’m going to be dealing with this shit for the rest of my life. If this is how bad I’m going to feel for the rest of my life, I don’t want to fucking be here.

And don’t tell me to reach out to other people for help because that’s all I ever fucking do, and I come across as a HUGE fucking burden. I know other people with anxiety, do they ever come to me for help? Is the exchange ever not when I’ve been sobbing for an hour and I’m dissociating and I need them to help me break out of it? When have I ever been there for a friend who really needed it? I never am. All I ever do is NEED something from people but I’ll be fucking damned if I’ve ever been able to pay it back.

And even if I did get bad enough to have to spend time in a ward or something, that’d just be even further stressing people out. I can’t have that on my fucking conscience.

I need to go because my appointment is in 20 minutes but holy shit am I in a terrible fucking mood today