I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like I'm jumping out of my skin, and this has been going on for a week or two. Maybe this is because I went through 3+ years of turmoil, and now that things have calmed down, I don't know what to do with myself. A lot of things in my life, things that I wanted, have worked out. I have a job, and I love it. We finally have caught up on our bills. We have pets we love. I've lost weight, and am only a few pounds from my goal weight.
But there's something else, something wrong, and I don't know what it is. I'm on medication. I was in therapy for years. Maybe I can't be happy. Maybe nothing makes me happy. Maybe I'll never be happy.
I feel like I need something to do, but I don't know what it is. I lack the ability to stick with anything or to bring anything to fruition. People tell me to exercise, but I lack the desire or dedication to do it. People tell me to find religion. I found a church in Columbia I loved, but the congregations up here either sing too much or have stupid hippie-dippie sermons or are just too far away. People tell me to do something musical; I lack musical talent, I can't sing, and although I love to dance, I've had people tell me I'm too clumsy to do it. I don't have the "crafty" gene; I see other people making jewelry, and sewing their own clothes, and making pottery, and all these other nifty things . . . and I don't do anything. I can't even clean the house correctly.
Of the things I like, I can't do them as much as I want, and there's a hole inside that may never be filled. I like shopping, but I have a serious problem with it and have to be careful. I like eating, but (and I hate to admit this) I have an eating disorder that is barely kept in check. I like drinking, but I don't want another episode of "Sally's an alcoholic; let's have an intervention."
Of the things I've thought I was good at: I used to think that I had a talent for art. I don't, and that's okay.
I used to think I was a talented writer, but my time at USC wrung that right out of me, made me doubt myself, made me want to stop, made me believe that I wasn't good at the one thing I thought I could do (which is probably why I hate USC so much).
I see people having children, and think "Maybe that's what I should do," and then I realize that isn't it at all. I want pets, and then we get pets and Curtis takes care of them.
I try to reach out and meet new people, but I'm failing at that. I haven't made friends at work. I don't know how to make friends anymore.
I feel like I need to do something, change something, but I don't know what that something is.
