remember that 30-Day Minimalism Game I started back on June 1st? well, I’ve picked it back up recently. so here’s the page wherein all the images are being posted. I cheated a little for the last few days. but I’m still working on it and keeping to the spirit of the challenge. 🙂
starting tomorrow, I’ll be playing a game for the entire month of June. it’s call the “30-Day Minimalism Game”. the full details are available here. but as for the TL;DR version: get rid of one item on day one, two items on day two, three items on day three, etc.
and if my math is right, that would 465 items by the end of everything. heh, I know me. I won’t get past day ten (and that’s being generous!) for a number of reasons — the main two being that A] I have commitment issues, and B] I can’t get rid of that much stuff in a single moment.
but even if I just get to day five, I will have already gotten rid of 15 items! so it’s worth it to even just start.
I’ve seemed to have talked my mother into doing it with me. which is rad — because Accountabilibudies FTW. we’re going to share photos with one another of what we select. we are also going to tweak one of the rules: the items do not have to leave by midnight. our schedules and/or transportation situations do not allow for that.
also, I think it would be cool to chronicle here the shit I get rid of. so that’s what I’ll do below. by dropping it here, I’m not clogging your feed each day with a new list of items I’m donating, giving away, or tossing out. (I will try to remember to make a “final haul” or recap post of sorts, linking back to here if necessary.)
if you’re interested in joining in, just let me know and in what capacity. otherwise, enjoy the ride!Continue reading
I CAN’T DO THIS.
I’m tired of the NOISE. so tired of THE LOUD-ASS NOISE THAT FUCKING ECHOES IN YOUR GODDAMN HEART. IN YOUR FUCKING MIND.
We’re not happy ’til everyone knows we’re SICK.
And that’s just how we like it.
We’ve hurt Bad enough, right? We’ve Earned it.
And being lonely’s only fun in a group;
It sort of loses it’s charm when it’s true.
I want out; I know I don’t need this.
Can you find me friends that don’t rank me on what I’ve been through?
The more battle scars, the more attention it gets you.
“I wanna get well! I wanna get well!”
Are the rest of you so content?
Stay where you are, but it hurts like hell.
And I’m sure it’s fun at first;
test your pulse, and check your vitals.
If it’s only a Game, you lost me.
I quit it with the Suicidal Recital.
What did you expect? — pretend it all Away?
And all we’ve got left is a sorry pile of hearts.
I’m getting out — gonna write myself a new Start.
Come on, dry your eyes, meet me on the other side.
Run as fast as you can, and we’ll make it out alive.
We know better now; we don’t have to live like This.
Go tell them all we don’t have to live like This.
let me go.
let me FREE.
let me not wake tomorrow.
I’m tired of this Battle again.
it’s the same War I’ve been fighting for so long.
LET ME GO!!!
it’s here. happy birthday to me, I suppose. I survived another year of living with myself, of beating myself up and despising who I am and what I haven’t accomplished.
a friend has to postpone birthday hangouts last night. instead, a different friend came over last night and gave me a few gifts. I skipped the gym this morning. I have had a few wishes her at work; I’ve received a few texts from my Louisiana folk too. then there’s an unrelated work hangout this afternoon. in the evening, I’m going to Noodles and Company with a third friend; he will probably pay, knowing him. then tonight I’ll cry myself to sleep. Saturday, Brian will take me to dinner and to see Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. at some point, I know I’ll get a gift from another friend who always sends something.
I wanted to cry when I woke up this morning. I really hoped that my gift from The-Powers-That-Be would be my not waking up finally. alas.
my sleeping issues have returned. I’m not sure what’s up with that. I mentioned to Brian about going back to a sleep specialist, and he agreed that it was a good idea.
my depression is worse, too; but that typically happens around my birthday.
I haven’t been to therapy in several months. she had a health issue that kept her out of work. she wants to meet Sep 2. I liked what work we were doing when we were actually doing it. but her constantly cancelling and rescheduling appointments was a real pain, and I had decided that I wouldn’t go back. but now, with the state I’m in, maybe I should. for now, at least. …man, I dunno.
I got a UTI last week. haven’t been back to my kickboxing since then. I know that’s not helping my mood any. I also ran out of my fibro and my axiety meds two weeks ago. so that’s taking a toll.
overall things should be great for me. but I’m crazy, and things are not good in my Mind.
so yeah. happy birthday to me.
I survived Tough Mudder!! within this hour exactly one week ago, I started a 5-mile (8.05k) job that included 13 different military grade obstacles — and I obviously survived. It was legit testing, y’all. sure, a few years back on a Zombie Run, there was a time I needed to stop and catch my breath, and I decided to just let them take my flags if they wanted; didn’t matter, I needed to breathe. but this was different. this was legit mentally and emotionally challenging. I was concerned I wasn’t going to be able to do certain obstacles, or that I would greatly injure myself in a n attempt. I questioned my very decision of being there, or having signed up for this. and then I went all existential and questioned so many other decisions in my life, including the move and the job acquisition. but I just paused, recollected myself, and moved on to the next challenge.
and I completed it. it seems like I should be more proud than I am. I don’t hang out with or talk to fitness people anymore, so no one really understand the magnitude of difficulty that is the Tough Mudder. normal adventure runs are a joke compared to this (I don’t mean to down those 5ks; I still love ’em!!). but I don’t feel proud. I’m disappointed in myself, that it was as difficult as it was for me. that I didn’t prepare better. that I didn’t perform better. I’m disappointed at how it wasn’t as amazing as it should have been (as is related to things within my power, not the organization).
I suppose that’s the pessimist in me, the cynic. the hyper-self-critical perfectionist. but I don’t know how to change that about myself. I suppose this is something I should bring up in therapy.
Brian and I have done it. we’re committed. July 15th, this year. only three months away.
….we’ve signed up for Tough Mudder.
and I’m going to die.
Tough Mudder is like those adventure runs that I used to do all the time, except in Hard Mode. it’s not so much a race as much as it is an obstacle course.
Tough Mudder is 10-12 miles of mud and 20+ obstacles designed to drag you out of your comfort zone. […] With no podiums, winners, or clocks to race against, Tough Mudder isn’t about how fast you can cross the finish line. It’s about pushing yourself. It’s about teamwork, camaraderie, and accomplishing something extraordinary.
Brian is doing the 10 mile course with 20+ obstacles. I’m only doing the 5 mile with 13 obstacles. I’m not at a point where I could handle the 10 miles. (though next year/time, I aim to be. )
all of this means I have to start working out again. and I started this morning. it means I have to workout every day, no matter what. no excuses. no wimping out. even if it’s just a brisk walk outside for a few minutes, I have to do something.
the Tough Mudder website has a three-month workout program designed to help get you ready. it’s a lot of circuit training and HITT — because that’s that kind of fitness I’ll need for the course. and honestly, that’s the kind of fitness I want overall. I want to be able to do bursts of stuff. I don’t need long endurance. and HITT is easier to change things up so I don’t get so bored as quickly.
that’s all for now. I wish I could write a more concise and stream-lined post about it, but my brain is all over the place. I wanted to at least get it out there that we’re doing this. so that in the future, when I’m groaning about my workouts, you’ll know why. 😉
I was lying on my side, repeating a phrase with which was I was far too familiar. at the “ch” sound in the collection of words, I felt the top of my tongue bounce of the roof of my mouth in a familiar pattern. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
I couldn’t breathe out of my nose, and I could barely transmit breathes past the sounds I was chanting. my eyes burned, and I could feel the air against the entire surface of my eyeballs. tears from the topside eye flowed into the lower. snot was dribbling out of my nostrils, passing just above my upper lip and down onto the couch.
but I didn’t cut. I didn’t pull out any hair. I only hit my head a few time. I didn’t scratch or burn or bite, or anything else that I wanted so terribly to do. I didn’t even drink. I Disappeared for a little bit to calm down, also known as purposefully disassociating. then I slowly rose and took a klonopin. I had no reason to be alive, and even less reason to be awake. I actually had a say-so in the latter, so I worked towards a goal — Disappear until tomorrow.
as I swallowed the pill, a shot of memories ran past my mind as I recalled how what was previously such a wonderful day pushed me into this dark, hateful place….