Where Was I? How Did I Get Here? (Could I Get Someone Else to Go The Rest of the Way?)

Good news! Dyeing my hair went great!

Bad news! Life is kicking me in the balls again for no apparent reason. 

The hardest thing to accept about going on the whole mental health journey is that as good as it is for awhile, there will still be down days. Today is one of those. 

Morning started off okay. Stayed in bed for a bit. Had some realizations. Texted my gf. Cried a lot. Got better. Got bad. Mother told me we were going out. That wasn't happening for me. Listened to Pretty Odd and played minecraft. Texted my best friend. Cried a little more. Got better and put myself together enough to make a banana choco peanutbutter smoothie. Glorious. Cleaned up. Back to my room. Slowly the anxiety comes creeping back. I'm waiting for my Mom and Brother to come back because my Mom wants to go out for lunch. I trying to keep myself together for that but as the clock ticks the anxiety builds and I can feel the watery pressure behind my eyes. 

On days like this, even if I stop crying, the feeling doesn't really leave. 

One of the revelations of the day is that I have a tendency to measure my success in relation to other people. If I'm doing better than others, that means I'm doing well. If they're doing better than me, that means I'm failing. You can see how this isn't good.

I feel like I haven't had a win for awhile. Like a real personal win. I have the rest of my driving school instruction to get through that I can barely lug through. My efforts to create my project for my portfolio that I need desperately before September comes are crawling at best. My mother tells me she doesn't have long left, I think shes paranoid. The finances of my family are unknown but I know just enough to know it isn't great. I can't bring myself to work. I need to start looking for a 7th roommate for the next year. I'm doing so little and yet I'm so stressed. 

I think they're home. 

I'm not ready to put myself together yet.  

I hate to see the success of my friends reflect an image of my failure. I'm happy for them, I am, but that joy is undercut by a stab in a heart and a voice saying "why aren't you doing the same? Why can't you get yourself together to work". 

. 

I came back from lunch. I still feel like I don't have enough energy to be expressive. But at least I'm moving. My best friend is streaming playing a fangame where you get sold to the beatles One Direction style. It's already lifting my mood. 

I love my friends.