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december meme | 02
I picked "One of the Many Times I Completely Failed at Self-Care" for myself for today. I don't know. It's been on my mind lately, mostly because lol why is not actively destroying myself so difficult.
Remember when I was unemployed? That golden stretch of time I remember so fondly, long to live again, bring up whenever I can? It was also the first time I really spiraled into depression. I would go so long without getting out of bed that by the time I did, I could hardly walk. One time in particular: headache-y and dizzy for miles, no food in the house, hardly any money either because I hadn't been to the bank in more than a week.
There were cigarettes, though. One left in the pack, and five bucks in my pocket. That was enough for a salad at the closest fast-food place, or, if I could summon the energy to run the grocery gauntlet, for enough beans and tuna and ramen to get me through a few days.
Instead, I smoked that last cigarette as I walked up the block to the shop on the corner, where I bought another pack and a candy bar. A Snickers, nice and cold from the cooler. The chocolate melted on my fingers. A bee buzzed my ear and I cut my cheek on a branch jerking away. Nougat stuck in my molars the whole walk home.
(I never walk anywhere. I don't know why I did that day.)
By the time I got home, the sugar and the nicotine were zinging me up enough that I managed to get in the car and drive to the bank. Maybe I'd showered within a respectable amount of time. Probably I didn't. I wore a red baseball cap and my hair was a nest of tangles. I withdrew thirty-five dollars and bought equal amounts of food and cleaning products. At home, I ate a bowl of lettuce and tomatoes with no dressing and went back to bed for another two days.
I memed whenever I was conscious, of course. Some days that was the only thing I did besides breathe.
(blank days still available to claim)
Remember when I was unemployed? That golden stretch of time I remember so fondly, long to live again, bring up whenever I can? It was also the first time I really spiraled into depression. I would go so long without getting out of bed that by the time I did, I could hardly walk. One time in particular: headache-y and dizzy for miles, no food in the house, hardly any money either because I hadn't been to the bank in more than a week.
There were cigarettes, though. One left in the pack, and five bucks in my pocket. That was enough for a salad at the closest fast-food place, or, if I could summon the energy to run the grocery gauntlet, for enough beans and tuna and ramen to get me through a few days.
Instead, I smoked that last cigarette as I walked up the block to the shop on the corner, where I bought another pack and a candy bar. A Snickers, nice and cold from the cooler. The chocolate melted on my fingers. A bee buzzed my ear and I cut my cheek on a branch jerking away. Nougat stuck in my molars the whole walk home.
(I never walk anywhere. I don't know why I did that day.)
By the time I got home, the sugar and the nicotine were zinging me up enough that I managed to get in the car and drive to the bank. Maybe I'd showered within a respectable amount of time. Probably I didn't. I wore a red baseball cap and my hair was a nest of tangles. I withdrew thirty-five dollars and bought equal amounts of food and cleaning products. At home, I ate a bowl of lettuce and tomatoes with no dressing and went back to bed for another two days.
I memed whenever I was conscious, of course. Some days that was the only thing I did besides breathe.
(blank days still available to claim)
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You wouldn't be able to pull that shit here. Five bucks would be lucky to get you the Snickers; you wouldn't even get close to the cigarettes.
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DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD:
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I'm 30 and four months and change. And I know it's a dirty disgusting cliche to say that life begins at 30, but considering I got an editor and was accepted into the Master of Communication that I wanted to do, I'm kinda pro that cliche.
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