Exercise

Let's talk about exercise for a minute.  Going to the gym.  The giant wheel that has become necessary to our existence since we essentially caged ourselves in the post industrial revolution "service economy".  I think you begin to gather my attitude towards it.  And mostly because I have ruined the body I was given with my hedonistic ways and now find myself trying to turn back the clock by...going to the gym.  Fuck getting old.

I'm just tired of feeling like I can't do it.  I feel this way about everything anymore and I don't know how to stop the constant pity party I'm living in.  I know that I have worn out my welcome with almost all my friends, and who can blame them?  I can't stand being around myself anymore.  I don't know where my sense of humor went, my sense of adventure, my interest in anything.  I have become... the Most Un-Interesting Woman in the World. I should start a web series about how pathetic I've become. It's ridiculous. I'm practically invisible.

Goddamn depression, fuck your evil ass.  I am so sick of you!!!

Oh and by the way, exercise isn't helping.  I'm just sore.  Really really sore, which is just making me feel older so fuck that too.  Not in the I'm going to give up way, because I know I have to keep at it if I ever eventually want to feel better, but in the fuck I hate reality and the bullshit routines that it forces us to go through to survive kinda way.

So yeah.  I'm tired of keeping on the mask of trying to be a pleasant person in the hopes that people will like me better.  I'm tired of not saying what I feel.  I hate that people think that I'm scary and intimidating and unapproachable, but I guess that's what I am because trying to not be those things is just turning me into a really fucking boring and unhappy person.  And it hasn't changed anyone's opinion of me one jot.  So I guess I'm just an angry person.  There's a lot to be angry about.  And if that's all you can see, then fuck you, you deserve to be intimidated by me.  Because the truth is, I'm a very loving person.  Smart and funny with a gigantic lust for life.  The problem is I need to feel like someone gives a damn or all of that goes away.  And right now, I don't feel the love.  We are not meant to live alone.

Now that I have vomited all of that onto your computer screen, let me tell you something that happened yesterday.  A shining little moment of connection that I will hold onto in my time of need.  I was at my friend's birthday party, and there was a little boy there, 4 yrs old, who I had never met and in my detached way was not interacting with much because you know, I'm a stranger and he's a 4 yr old.  So we're all sitting there and he's taken over the house like kids do, but in a very polite way and he turns to me and he just asks very innocently "Are you a kid?"  And I said yes.  Because in that split second, I remembered my true self that I haven't talked to in a while, and all the truths that I hold dear were there.  Because this kid (and I've had this happen before with kids and it thrills me every time) saw a kinship and singled me out as the other kid in the room.  And to me that's the best thing in the world, because that's all I really want to be.  When I was in my 20's, I promised myself that I would never be a gr'up, fuck that.  And somehow recently I've started feeling guilty about that, like what a ridiculous way to live, look how much shit that philosophy has gotten me in, and I blame therapy for that.  I'm not saying 10 years of talking to a shrink didn't help in some ways, but the whole goal is a certain kind of conformity.  The whole idea of getting mentally "healthy" starts with the assumption that there is such a thing and you have to change who you are to get there.  But now, as I have cycled through every emotion in this blog (sorry if anyone is actually reading this), I am left with this moment with this kid, seeing my beautiful Peter Pan inside.  And you know what?

I will never be a gr'up. Fuck that.