Statement 2. 3/27/23

Statement begins.

Ugh. I think I'm consuming too much art and poetry nonsense. I wanna write. Gross.

So, I move in about 5 weeks. That's, yknow, insane. I'm not packed, at all, all I've done is put all of my makeup shit in a box. I keep wanting to put clothes in bags, yknow, to just dump em out into the drawers at the dorms when I get there. I just can't get myself to, though. I might be depressed, but like, just maybe. Not sure. It's been a while since I was like, super recognizably depressed. Which is good, I guess.

The hair is blue and black. The blue got put over a green, and you can still see some of the green-it's fucking perfect, exactly how I want it. The Narcissist Cookbook concert is in about 2 weeks, and my hair's the right color for their logo. God, I'm so fucking excited to see that live. To show off my tattoo. To hang out with my homie again. Damn, I miss that asshole.

I mostly can't wait to move, though. I just really want to meet other people. Entirely new people, no history, no bullshit. Hearing new stories. Telling mine to new people. Doing new shit. I'm moving alone and thats a nightmare but god, a clean slate sounds so fucking nice right now.

Largely, stuff is... looking up? Surprisingly. I've been kind of off and on about consistently taking my meds. Last time I stopped it was becasue I felt a little zombie-ish. And I didn't get particularly manic when I stopped? I'm gonna keep taking them for work, though, I'm never fucking working unmedicated again, that shit was a nightmare. Maybe that's just it, I just need to be medicated during work so I don't go insane during work, and then I'll just be like, fine outside of work too. God, whatever keeps me somewhat okay.

I still don't actually know if I want to be a psychologist. God, it sounds like so much work. Too much fucking work. I'm just like, a little bit tired, all the time-and I'm already so fucking emotionally weak, and that job is so emotionally intensive, yknow? But I can't think of anything else. I'm already planning on being an ASL translator, so I guess we'll just see if that pays enough for me to drop the psych idea. That's kind of the only other option, though. I'm not really good at anything else, and I certsinly don't really find anything even half as fascinating.

Well. Anyway. Life goes on and such.

Statement ends.