Dresses

Oh look. Pictures of me being depressed.

I have developed this habit of buying clothes ONLY for work, so I have nothing to wear when I go out anymore. That doesn’t sound like it would be a really real problem, but it is. You never consider how much what you wear reveals about yourself. My wardrobe being catered exclusively around work and nothing being something that I’d wear to a social event really shows how much I’ve forsaken social life. (Imma totally derail now… enjoy or skip down to ANYWAYS…)

I try to be social, but it ends up so disappointing.

For example, this past Friday I tried to hook up with Bird. She’d had a terrifying experience on the highway and wanted to go out and celebrate being alive… She turned down all my suggestions for actual fun things to do, and we ended up just getting a drink at a bar we don’t go to much “for something different.” I suggested everything from a local goth night, to crashing a senior citizen prom, to just trying a new venue with some different kind of music… but as much as she says she’d like to do more than the rest of our friends, who LIVE at karaoke and do literally nothing else, she doesn’t really want to try anything new either. On top of that, I tried to plan for her being late, because she’s always fucking late, and I was still there for about an hour alone before she showed up. So… all together I call the night a bust. We didn’t even really have anything to talk about since neither of us seem to do much at this point. I think we are both horrifically depressed… and depressed people do not lift each other up, but rather we drag each other down.

I was supposed to go to a birthday party Saturday night, but hurt my back doing yard work and backed out. I made sure to make it to a move with Bird on Sunday morning. She wanted to see Annabelle: Creation, and I was down. SO… I get her to confirm movie time and location, but just as I’m leaving my house she’s like…

“Are we still doing this?”
“Unless you suddenly changed your mind.”
“No, I’m just double-checking.”

::15 mins goes by and I’m outside the theater::

“But what about your back?”
“It hurts but all we’re going to do is sit.”
“Okay.”

And then she showed up like 20 mins later, right when the movie was starting.

I try really hard not to take shit personally, but if you wanna bail, just fucking bail. I hate people who vacillate way more than people who bail. At least I know when someone bails that I suddenly have free time. It’s still a little inconvenient, but at least it’s definitive so I can plan something else. Toss always being late into that mix and I’m just a weird mixture of hurt and angry that you’re wasting my time.

I was trying to wait for her in the parking lot, but I ended up just telling her where I was sitting and going into the theater because I stopped caring if she even showed up. I was there. I was irritable. I was seeing the movie with or without her… just cuz I was there.

I love Bird to death. She’s a great person, and I know she’s got her own shit she’s dealing with, but I just hate trying to do stuff with her. I just end up feeling bad because she vacillates on plans and then shows up late. So me, miss prompt-and-requiring-validation, feels like I’m not worth hammering down plans with, and that she’s not valuing my time… and she’s not valuing my time… and I find that mean… and the fact she’s one of two friends I legit see regularly really just compounds how meaningless I perceive that I must be to her, whether it’s true or not.

ANYWAYS I BOUGHT SOME DRESSES. I was going to go to Torrid on my way home from work one night this week, but got a better deal online and picked up six dresses there… and then I got three from Maurice’s that are plainer and cheaper, but still nice looking. I tried really hard to pick things I could, and WOULD, wear somewhere that isn’t work. I tried to throw some actual personality into it. It’s hard… because I don’t even know what I’d like to wear anymore…

I just use clothes to cover this terrible body I have, and that’s not fashion. I’m not expressing myself; I’m just hiding something I refuse to embrace. It contributes to my bad feels… I would really like to like myself again. I did for a while there, and it was great. I dunno what’s changed now… but I don’t like not liking myself.

So… gonna work on that, I guess.

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What Is My Life Now?

I found a journal I’ve been keeping on and off since Senior Year yesterday. Read some it… how lost I was, then.

But then I started thinking about it… and I’m not less lost now then I was. Not at all. I can’t even answer questions I used to be able to answer anymore. Older people will tell you that your 20s are meant to be when you figure out who you are, but fuck… I haven’t any kind of idea. I’ve had the same job for eight years, I live in the same house, next door to my mother…
I mean the only thing that’s really changed between 2006 and now, is that I have four dogs and a cat, instead of two dogs. I also go out significantly less. So… I guess I got more boring and became more of an animal hoarder. AND I stopped dating people… So I dropped that slut status… But is that gonna be the rest of my life?I know they say not to compare your life to the lives of others, because they don’t share your experiences and nothing will be comparable… but it’s almost impossible not to make the comparison. Social media throws it all in my face.Things other people have accomplished:

    MarriageChildrenLaw schoolNot growing up at allMoving awayGetting big awesome jobsJobs in the field in which they got their degree

I got none of that. I don’t even have a significant other… because people suck… but I haven’t really DONE anything. I got a graphic design degree from a horrible for-profit college… and that’s really the end of the achievement list. I haven’t even lost weight since high school. I gained it. It’s like my life is standing totally still.

But, then I had this scary ass thought…
I don’t wanna get married. I’m not going back to college, more than likely. I have a house and a good job here, so I’m probably not going to move any time soon. So… aside from either accidentally getting pregnant (which I don’t foresee since I’ve decided to stop banging people for good this time) or adopting a kid, there is nothing else for me to look forward to. I have no achievements left in life. That’s the most depressing thing to happen to a 25 year old, EVER.

Bird’s got a new man, and her graduation is coming up. Who knows what she’ll end up doing in the next five years.
Davy gets his bar exam scores soon and, in spite of his doubts, will probably get a lawyer job somewhere. Knowing Davy, this will take exactly five years for him to become some kind of partner in the firm and then he and his man will adopt some kids and sale off into the golden sunset.
And… that’s like the end of my friends list.

I have this horrible fear that nothing will change in my life in the next eight years… What if I wake up at 33 and I have 16 dogs, no significant other, no kids, and I’m still here at the dealership? I’m gonna kill myself, that’s what will happen… Probably not. I can’t leave dogs without a home… but for fuck’s sake. I just…

I can’t even… I’m scared. I hate this crap. Living with total uncertainty CANNOT be the endgame to life… You reach 25 and your world falls apart because it has no where left to go?What kind of shit deal is that?