I'm having a terrible day.
It shouldn't be this terrible. I shouldn't feel this horrible. But it is and I do.
I slept in this morning, watched a bunch of my favorite TV shows, took a walk in the gorgeous weather we've been having, met up with a good friend and had a pleasant evening. But upon returning home, everything feels bleak. I feel closed-in and heavy and dark.
The good news is that this is the first of such days I've had in a couple months now. Back in 2008 in the depths of my depression this was the norm, the every-day. This feeling of panic when there really isn't much to be panicked about. This feeling of worthlessness, or less than worthlessness, because even that word "worthlessness" implies someone has put forth the effort of determining worth. I feel like I'm not even worth that effort. I feel like a joke. I feel small.
Part of it's money concerns. I took out a $5,000 loan to help with grad school but now that I've fallen below half-time enrollment I have to start paying it up. The "6 month grace period" I'm given has turned out to actually be 4 months as they just sent me a notice that I'll have to start payment in April.
I don't mind being poor if what little I have is actually mine. I can get by being poor. What I hate is owing money AND being poor. It's not a very nice combination.
I took a gamble so I could try to write, and now I'm so weary and so distracted with my silly weight loss woes that I haven't been writing. And even if I was writing, it's not good. None of it's good. I should just stop.
I feel so dark and so heavy and so small. I feel like all I do is take up space in a world that would be better off without me. I know tomorrow I'll wake up and the sun will be shining and all of this will have vanished, like fog burned away by daylight. But I feel it now.
Oh how I feel it now.