The Misery Chick

Ah, the first day of the new school term fastly approaches. And with it the return of Hermit!Shanleigh, that dark, fearsome thing that absorbs her social life. This disturbing creature brings with it a toxic cloud of procrastination and slight depression. It also makes her feel absolutely useless and digs her a little further into her shallow grave. A most fearsome beast.

All jokes aside, I feel absolutely awful. I feel like a horrible daughter and friend. I really hate how this diary has turned so emo so fast, but I guess I can’t help it.

My mom’s 50th birthday is tomorrow, and while my aunt was supposed to schedule a Las Vegas trip sometime this month, that has fallen through and now I feel awful for not having planned anything. My mother is a wonderful humane being, divine even. She’s always been so strong, even when my dad left. She puts up with his bullshit and she makes me realize some very important things, like to breathe. I love her so much, I’m a failure for letting this birthday pass without any sort of celebration.

Of course, being the selfish creature I am, I start the think about what my life will be like when I’m 50. So far, the daydreams have been very bleak, which does absolute wonders for the low self-esteem.

I looked up some of my classes today. I have this ominous feeling that I’m going to hate my perception class. I love psychology, specifically child psychology, but I don’t think my forte is going to be this class. I may end up dropping it. But then, what do I do? There’s not much I can replace it with. And having just two classes in one term makes me feel like an even bigger failure.

Viscious circles, thou art a heartless bitch.

My friend Tanner had a party a few days ago. It was really sweet. My ex-boss lady Meghan came from Toronto and surprised me by being there. That was absolutely wonderful. I really missed her, and I loved talking with her again. However, I started talking with her friend Jessica, who is a stage manager, and my funk began.

I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life. I wish someone from the future could just show up right in front of me and say, "Hey, in 30 years, you’re a (job title) and you love it! Bye!". I just want to do something! I don’t think I want to be a psychologist anymore, but it’s really hard making it in the theatre world.

Help me, please. I’m drowning here.

My mind is starting to go to those dark places again. I’m starting to fantasize about having cancer and dying again. I’m starting to think that dying young wouldn’t be so bad. I wouldn’t have to sit and watch as all my friends pass me by and I wouldn’t have to endure being lonely anymore. If I had a long, drawn-out disease, then I could say my goodbyes at my leisure and I could just float on my remaining time before Mr. Grim shows up at my door. That doesn’t sound so bad.

But then I think about how bad it is to be fantasizing about dying.

And then I think, "Are there really that many people who would be affected by my passing?"

And the depression sinks in a little more.

School tomorrow.