Back to work and normal life after a week of unabridged relaxation and gaming. Yep yep. Found out the painter, who's going to paint most of my apartment won't be able to make it here til October. At first I was a little miffed, but then I figured, what the hell. I mean, besides one or two walls where it looks a little scruffy due to shelves and stuff being taken down, everything is pretty much as it has been for years. So no skin off my nose for waiting another 6-8 weeks. Only real problem is, I don't have a lot of space to put stuff yet. Still have about 5 boxes of stuff just idling on the floor. Today, however, I decided to finish some of them off. I figured, if I could boil the contents down to like.. one or two boxes, I could stowe them in a different room, and they wouldn't take up space in my living room. So that's what I decided to do. And boy, all kinds of stuff turned up.
Most of it was from days where life wasn't a peach in any sense of the word. I've had mental problems for years. All my life basically. The phobia thing. It's made a huge impact, and for many years, it controlled my life. I was always unlucky and when the shit hit the fan, I withdrew and hid, instead of facing the music, and dealing with it. That meant I pretty much hated waking up everyday, because I knew it'd be another day of bad conscience and paranoia everytime the mailman came by, or the doorbell rang, or my phone rang. I felt like a fugitive. From creditors, people who wanted something from me. God damn, I hated that period of my life. Had lost a girlfriend in the worst possible way, and it ate at me. Ate at me something fierce. I was bitter, and by the sheer thought of her, I'd have bad feelings swell up inside of me.
Through roundabout ways, I had acquired mails written by her.. uhm... the guy she cheated on me with, to her, and her replies. I printed these mails out, and read them from time to time. Made me feel worse than I ever had in my life. But I did it anyway, because I basically hated myself, and wanted me to suffer. Don't ask me why. I was bitter I guess.
That combined with the hassle from people wanting money I didn't have etc. etc... and me not having a job, not getting out of the house and pretty much just being a sorry excuse for a human being at home, really grinded me down.
All this came back to the surface today, when sorting through old papers and letters. I found the mails again, and reread them. And even tho I'm over it, it still made me feel a little.. weird. Took me back, you see. And I found like... 40 unopened letters from creditors and other people who were angry at me. Damnation. Really crappy times. Made me feel a bit iffy just now, and I figured I'd write about it, to get it out of my system. And it has helped. I'm tossing all the bad shit out tho, so it's gone.. over with. And let that be the last of it. I'm still not perfect in my ways of dealing with things, but I have gotten a little better. At life. I suck it, don't get me wrong. But I'm also realizing, most people do. And while being a part of the group that's the lowest denominator isn't my idea of being cool, I guess it's better than being alone and left out by society.
So, one box down, 4 to go. It was rough goings there for a while, but I got the better of it. Now I'll have to figure out where the hell to put that Coca Cola IceBear lamp my mom bought for me. Oh well, I think I'll put it in the window sill somewhere. It's a nice little lamp, and I like it. I needs to be displayed. Back to the boxes, yo!
