Whining is whining.
I thought I was done with feeling worthless and just unresolved (as much as that can describe a person). But maybe I will never feel complete and able and in love with my life, at least, not all the time. There are times that I feel at peace with my life, with how I am, with what I’m doing, with where I’m going. But as much as I feel that way, there are times when nothing feels right, nothing is going right, and nothing will be right.
And, maybe, these things balance each other out, and you can’t feel one way all the time, which is true, I suppose. But when things aren’t going right, and I don’t feel well about anything, much less one thing, it’s as if I feel this more than when I am somewhat content.
I am just stressed, discontent, and slightly unwell physically, which makes everything just awful. I don’t understand how I feel. Two hours ago I was eagerly discussing how my friends and I are making our own version of Epic Meal Time next weekend, which will be awesome as hell but now I couldn’t care less and this just isn’t working out.
