just type already

i've gone over the way to start this a million times in my head. all of them a million times better than this.

i've been writing. physically writing. pages and pages in my journal. beautiful, powerful, insightful things. grandiose belief statements, insightful goals and desires.

i want to believe them. i really do.

but when i go back to actually type the words, to say them again to myself in my head, they just...they're too grandiose. i'd have to be an absolute lunatic to honestly believe what i've written just a few days ago.

and there in is the struggle. i really WANT to believe it. it's my own words after all. it's my own thoughts.

but after the ink has had time to dry on the page, it just...

it's been a bit of a brutal few weeks. i've been to several job interviews only to never hear from them again (positive or negative, just let me know). i've been bullshitted on reasons for being passed over for jobs (don't tell me you're short staffed, down managers, can't cover shifts but then decided to promote within. that doesn't stick). unemployment was denied because office culture wasn't a good enough reason to quit (so go ahead with your prejudice and harassment).
 
it's been a bit of a blow to the ego. you know? it just reinforces so many of the terrible things i already think of myself.

being passed over to work in a book store was a particularly tough hit.

then i made the mistake of calling my brother. i had a message to give to him and i intended to to ask him if, in light of all the news media covering harassment, if *MAYBE* he at least believe me enough now to protect his daughter. i relayed the message, but really chickened out on the second half. instead i just got a lecture on how if nothing has changed i really shouldn't bother calling him.

oh, and that writing thing...do i actually think anyone is going to read it?

ouch.

and i know. listening to the two cents of someone who didn't even have a clue i was a writer until i was LATE in my 20's...probably not the person to put stock in. but he is family. there's something...an approval. some bullshit that i just...need. it makes absolutely zero sense. it's holds none of the markers of someone that i would normally listen to. not someone who understands or knows a single thing about me. not someone who i aspire to be. not someone who has ever put any stock or merit into any of my interests or abilities or choices. as far back as i can remember all i've been is an embarrassment.

but still.

logically i know i'm well beyond being the awkward, strange little sister.

but that sort of stick with you, you know?

and so i'm struggling. i'm questioning. i'm overthinking. i'm stuck in my head in this place between really wanting to believe in myself and take a massive risk and just going back to what's always been safe and worked before.

i can't tell really which direction to go.

i feel like maybe the universe is kicking my ass a little bit with all the job stuff falling through and really forcing my hand at giving myself a shot. i HAVE to make something happen with my writing since every time i try to turn back to what i've always done it just sucker punches me harder and harder (really, i get it, if even a book store won't hire me...).

but fuck that jump is terrifying. so much doubt and question and unknown. so what if i finish something. there's a MASSIVE difference between finishing a project and being able to finish a project that provides a living, which, really can't be avoided forever.

and back and forth i go. and closer and closer insanity inches. and the sleepless nights stack on top of each other. which makes my days less productive. which makes me feel like more of a loser. which stresses me more. which makes me question and overthink even more...and around the fucking circle goes.

the super great news though is that at least my skin in handling all the stress just wonderfully.