A problem I am.

I am a serious problem.
I've had this same problem for a long time. My whole life in fact because it lives with me under my skin.

What is exactly wrong with me, I don't know. I do know, however, that the problem is *me*. Not anyone else, just me. It's one of the many reasons I don't go telling people about my problems (excepting that one special person who happens to be closest to me at the moment and my father). Because in the end I'm the only one who can solve it. Only I can stop me from myself.

God only knows what I need to fix this. I wish medication was it. Everyone lives with unrest and frustration, what would we be without at least one real problem going on at all times? I can't seem to figure out why I would be unhappy! I have a job! I have a home! I have hobbies at my access and friends who call me out of my solitude! I have people I see on a regular basis who know my name! I have music and a car! I live in a big beautiful city with so much to do and the OCEAN on my doorstep!

But then, while I have a job, I don't like doing it- it's not challenging, it's not interesting or progressive. In fact everyday feels like one big loop of nothing. It eats at me- gnaws at my stomach, that everyday when Chris asks how my day was I have nothing to say. No story. Nothing changes. Am I craving punishment?! Do I want hardship and pressure?

YEAH. I guess so! I have time to read and draw and design and create but I don't! I won't! Because this problem is me. Perhaps it's an exacerbated laziness. Perhaps it's early detection of bipolar disease (entirely possible). You know I don’t want to hurt anyone with my insanity.

My poor little brother has no car and had to find a new job. No girlfriend. And he's getting into those *later* classes that start to rip your heart out with the work you put into it. A degree in Phyc much less putting Arabic on top of it all. He is the one who needs love and support. Not me. Not this silly ranting girl full of nothing to share. No place to rest her heart. As I said, God only knows what I need- but could it be I have a heart brimming with love and no place to dump it? I can feel it pouring over my hands as I look for an appropriate container with whom or where I can share it. Not just someONE I can give my heart to (all the way) but a good project or a good job. I want someone or something that needs me.

You would think this time of peace would be one to revel in. I have all this stuff in me and no relief. And even there- the only one stopping me from putting it anywhere is my common sense. What I wouldn't give for a wild or insane moment where I get to jump off a cliff into the "End of the World" (Ender's Game reference, don't worry I'm not suicidal). I want to fly to some remote place and get lost. I want to suffocate just a little bit and come out fine. Did you know today I was almost late to work because I sat at the edge of my bed and day dreamed too long? Seriously? I zoned out. And then I thought the next stupidest thing- 'I should really schedule a time to daydream so it doesn't get in the way of life'.

Even I know how sick that is.

Ah yes. Reason #2 of many that I don't share these thoughts- I don't want to torture anyone who really cares about me with the knowledge that they really *can't* help me. So don't you worry about me. It's all in my head. It's all my own fault. If only I'd stop thinking about it!

Maybe I just need time. Perhaps some huge event will happen or perhaps not! Maybe I'm supposed to be learning something. Do you think perhaps this is just another shining chance for me to prove how I fail at my own life? When the game is down and I'm on my own, I fail.

And reading over this again re-emphasizes to me how crazy I am. How I'm digging my own pit.

I need a change. A really big change.
I know I'm crazy.
I guess all I can do is wait it out. And stare longingly at that cliff…