hi blog, missed you too. yesterday was a really good day, I realized by the end– more on that later. well today started quite nicely, too, but right now there’s a dark swirl in my chest and I wish it would just leave me alone.
i don’t try to be angry, but a lot of the time i just am. this really only hurts me. i get miserable and sad about it. sometimes i figure my irritability is my body’s way of telling me it’s hungry or tired, so i feed it, and break. and yet
writing this was a good idea– i can already tell its starting to doze off, just a little. still i’m mad at a bunch of things. you can imagine the vectors shooting out from behind my ribs in a plethora of directions, sharp and targeted. mostly at people, i guess, or circumstances. big difference, i know. but whatever. on one hand, i house all these weird values and general angst. on another, you could just call me sensitive. (i might have once cried, haha, but it’s true.) tendency to get feelings hurt– is this not all of us?! i think about my trauma, as compared to his and hers and theirs and yours, and a rough sense-making picture emerges; i don’t talk about this with anyone, really, not my therapist, not myself, but i guess there’s no harm in mentioning here that i wasn’t the most well-supported when upset growing up. i feel that i’m bent out of shape.
anyway, enough! i don’t feel super comfortable talking about how i process things weird/poorly/not at all. i’m supposed to be the friend that’s always processing, lmao. about that. actually no. never mind.
back to the angry cat in my thoracic cavity– she’s gray and black, her hair is standing on end, and she’s really tiring me out. what has pissed me off to such a degree that i had to abandon this afternoon’s schoolwork quest on rough-start terms and pop open tumblr.com? well maybe that’s not for you to know, blog. just kidding, i’ll cut a slice of the cake for ya.
marching band (cue audience reaction) takes a lot of time & effort from me, and i don’t get a ton in return. that’s one reduction! much more within the honestly painful & complex situation to discuss but, no… that! scratch uno. scratch dos? the repairs around my apartment have been completed rather shoddily; net-zero outcomes, i say, pessimistically-upon-reflection; there are just as many problems as there were before our requests were handled, i exaggerate. on the real, that’s just annoying, sorry. sorry i’m being a bitch, idk, blame my other, more serious, home security trauma that i’m not going to get into right now/you just have to take my word for! ugh, god, so bad at this. that’s the other thing though, i thought while making pizza for snunch (snack lunch)– why do i feel like a bitch all the time?
answer: either i) i am or ii) i’m crazy
this is where i, if presently corny (i can practically hear the nodding), get even more so– this is why i really do want to know what people think of me, because at default i have some of the worst answers. common themes: exhausting, rude, unserious. i mean, fuck!!!
(thank you mother phoebe waller-bridge for the ‘bad feminists’ line and for your pronunciation of 'cafe’, while we’re here)
so, what? i feel badly about myself, sometimes people make me feel bad about myself, and separately, i might just be a horrible person. lmao. let’s go with curtain 3– ass scenario, but what can i even do? the thought is to go away, as much as possible. convenient, given that’s what i do when i’m in a mood, like right now. isolate, then stay: that kind of sucks. and is pretty dumb. which brings us to the 'reform’ option, i.e., get better, in the moral sense.
i’ve been reading this reproductive justice book and it’s got me feeling like i’ve got the right outlook on things. like, god, i’m so glad this work is letting me see the world more clearly; like i actually have the real knowledge to do something about all this crap. as i walked so serenely to campus this morning (dressed perfectly, empty mug in hand because i just walked out of the house with a sip left in her,) i was listening to an audiobook version of the text. along the way i found an id card on the ground, brought it to the library. saw a familiar face outside the building, thought “oh that’s the grad student labor organizer i didn’t have time to talk to the other day, let me see if i can help” and ended up hailing down strangers to vote for the next better part of an hour before class. glad they’re getting their union! at least that made me feel good about what i do to this world.
kind of done writing now. here are the last thoughts.
i wonder if i do too much alluding on this blog? i mean, i’m gonna make the link publicly available soon and using the adjective “dramatic” to describe kate only flies with my mental health some days. i don’t… idk. this is my art!
finally::: maybe im pasing ! and maybe my good friend from high school will visit me in october ! and maybe i will learn to talk all of the time the right way ! maybe, leaves will turn orange, and fall, and everything will be alright.
cya,
kate
9/21/23
p.s. post playlist:
- opener: a thread to find, shannon lay
- damn, ada lea
- eye on the bat, palehound
- my love mine all mine, mitski
- finale: big girls dont cry, fergie