[RANT/VENT, feel free to ignore, I just need to let it out.]
Lately I haven’t really been myself. I’ve been dealing with intensely high “highs” and on the other hand some pretty deep lows (related to work, chores, the house, and such.) Work has me overwhelmed, the house has me overwhelmed, and on some days, even though it’s true that I have to draw because I need to complete commissions, I will have higher priority things that I should be doing (such as post-citizenship paperwork) yet I keep drawing from the moment I wake up until I go to bed because it’s just easier to draw and lose myself in it, not thinking about other stuff I have to do, or about anything else, really.
Over the last few days, I’ve been thinking and thinking trying to figure out what has been bothering me by priority level. By and large, it is my “to-do” list. Sometimes it’s really stupid things. I did figure out one of them, the primary one, I suppose.
Our porch is in horrendous shape again. Even when I spent two days cleaning it a few months ago, already multiple things in it were ruined, and that was depressing in its own right, but at least I cleaned the mold off. In this godforsaken state, anything you put outside is ruined by the sun, sometimes within weeks. But it rains so much, you get mold in spite of the sun —because of the humidity.
Last time, I cut myself on a plastic flowerpot that cracked to pieces in my hand due to sun exposure. And right now, in between the dirt and grime and mold, and everything breaking down in front of my eyes, every morning when I see the porch my mood is just kind of fouled for the rest of the day. It’s incredibly depressing. It’s so depressing that I don’t want to go out to water my plans and they are dying.
And you might say well, just clean it. And every once in a while I do, which with pressure cleaning and moving of so many things, takes me two days to do. I have to do it by myself. I’m not very strong nor do I have a lot of stamina. Even though every single time it gets this bad I get so depressed that it affects so much else in my life, it just means I feel even less motivation to do something about it.
If money wasn’t so tight right now, I would just hire someone. It’s too much for me to do alone (primarily the moving of things, and all the decorative rocks have to be cleaned too) and after doing it alone twice I don’t even want to have anything to do with it. I get this simultaneous anger and hopelessness about the entire stupid thing.
It’s just a porch, I don’t know why it affects me to this degree. Maybe because seeing it through the windows it ruins the entire house for me. But I know it does affect me. It happened just like this last time too, and I feel so much worse just writing about it, because I don’t want to do it any more than I did before I wrote this, but now I realize how much it has been affecting me, even more than I suspected. I literally start neglecting the rest of the house as a direct result. It’s a cascading effect.
So yeah. I don’t know. Either I hire someone (can’t, really… I haven’t even bought my walking shoes because I’m so desperate to continue saving money) or at some point I feel so absolutely and utterly miserable that I just do it and waste two days of my life.
I don’t usually feel this much worse after writing a post. Well, at least I know what’s been eating at me. It’s not the only thing, but this one is so major compared to the others that it’s kind of hilarious.
Also, some stuff has left me in such an amount of physical pain for freaking days now, that I don’t know what to do with myself, going on my walks sucks ass, walking up and down the stairs sucks ass, it hurts even trying to work or laying down, and I’m definitely not okay enough to handle the goddamn porch. Like I’m not actually complaining (much) but fuck.
Shit! I’m so cranky. I’m sorry. I don’t usually swear so much. I have multiple happy posts in my drafts that I haven’t worked on because I’ve been so miserable and just trying to keep it to myself for days. I’ve been neglecting friends, too. I thought I was doing well enough and instead I just vomit it all over the blog.
Maybe I will clean the damn thing. Can’t very well stay like this, it’s not good for me, but I just get so angry about it. I hate it. I’m in pain. I don’t want to do it. When I think of doing it I fucking hate my life. Stupid ass porch!!