archive from 2005 + nsfw picture

Here is a picture of me in my first apartment:

I was heavier then, but looking back, I like how "womanly" I look. Please excuse the fact that I'm in underwear and 4" patent leather peeptoe heels. (:

reading some of my old entries from my previous blogs. i found this one:

testing the limits of something i've never trusted
it's not worth what you're getting for it
why bother?

i'm growing up, and it's fucking exciting.

I had just moved into my first apartment in Seattle, it was summer and the weather was so pretty and I would walk to my one painting class I had at SCCC or to the grocery store or to work. I spent a lot of time hanging out with 3 friends and we could never plan things to do that sounded fun but we always ended up doing something random and silly and enjoying ourselves. But the journal entry was about more than that. I thought at the time that I was about to find out who I was and feel comfortable with who I was because I had Asian friends for the first time and I lived by myself and could pretty much do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to. I threw up the first day I lived there (either because the city tap water was so nasty, or out of nervous excitement).

I had lots of hopes, like becoming comfortable with driving in the city (I miss that car). I still hate driving and it makes me completely panicky to drive in Seattle. I was completely uninterested in finding a boyfriend, but I liked feeling free to date or sleep with whoever I wanted. And I liked the feeling of people wanting to date me. There were a) just generally a higher number of guys b) a higher chance of finding a guy without a bad case of yellow fever. Despite the dating atmosphere being better than my tiny hometown, I still went on plenty of terrible dates, but I always thought it was kind of fun. I think a bad date is much more fun than an "okay" date because it makes a good story and I like to see ridiculous people in real life situations.

Anyway, that summer was the last time I felt any significant momentum in my life. It slowed once real school (SU) started in the fall and then eventually stopped during my senior year there. And my bf at the time pushed me to finish my winter quarter. He wrote a paper or maybe two for me and did all kinds of stuff or me even though he was going to school himself 100 miles away. That was the reason I passed my classes that quarter. By spring quarter, my last quarter, he was gone to Japan and with no one there to spoon feed me my homework, I gave up and dropped out six weeks before the quarter was over and I would've graduated.

By that time my coping skills were definitely no match for the elements in my life. I had pretty bad agoraphobia, and usually only left the house to get food or to go to counseling/health clinic appointments at school even though i had entirely stopped going to classes. I rarely answered my phone and mostly only talked to people via texts because it's less confrontational.

I'm realizing the coping skills I've developed are no match for reality. I need them though, desperately. Because without them, I think I might explode or implode, or walk out in the street naked and crazy or drive my car into the house.

Blah. I'm done for now.

food stamps. mental health stigmas. the office.

Okay. Today I applied for food stamps. I'm really really not proud of this, but if I'm accepted for food stamps it will be a lot easier to defer my student loans. And really, there is no way I can handle another bill on top of everything. Anyway, during the application it asked if I had health reasons for not working. Or if I didn't work because I was disabled. And I really didn't know how to answer those.

I'm currently not working or in school because I have really bad depression and panic disorder and an eating disorder and unofficially diagnosed borderline personality disorder. Basically I have a lot of mental health issues. But I feel like those are bullshit reasons to not work. I really do. But that probably just makes me more depressed and more likely to have an anxiety attack. So wtf am I supposed to do? The last few days I've been a perfect commercial for depression or Paxil or Wellbutrin or Celexa or whatever when there's some person who's all by themselves looking really glum. Or maybe not because they never show people curled up in the fetal position crying in bed having not showered in 3 days in a very messy room with diet coke cans and snickers wrappers everywhere. Ugh. TMI sorry.

Anyway, I just read an article about depression and the stigma associated with it. It's about a study which concluded that people are more comfortable with admitting that they're gay, alcoholic, have cancer or are bankrupt. Seriously. People are more comfortable saying "I'm bankrupt" than "I have a mental health problem." I'm not judging bankruptcy because I'm pretty much bankrupt too. Haha. Reminds me of the episode of the Office where Michael "declares" bankruptcy. Check it out:

Clutch #3. stressed + lazy = more stress.

Ugggh. I know I have bills I need to pay and I'm not really sure when everything is due and I'm too lazy/afraid to check. I keep putting it off. Tomorrow I WILL do it (maybe?).

My mom came in my room today to talk to me about something probably lame and pointless and said "Cool music!" in reference to Portishead.





I sewed my third clutch. I made it with thrifted fabric with ruffles (of course) and a small little chain that I strung with glass beads. I found an old shoebox of sewing notions (I love that word "notions") and used some snaps that I think are from the 60's or so to use as closures for my clutches. The package says it was 29 cents for 7 snaps.

Some beezy who bought some of my clothes off ebay has still not paid me yet ):

I finished my owl ATC's for a swap-bot swap.


To Do List for Tomorrow:
post office (send ebay packages and possibly buy bette davis stamps)
buy diet coke
call doctor re: wellbutrin
laundry
exercise of some kind (since I apparently cannot stop eating, I must start exercising)

stupid worries. weight gain.

Lately I can. Not. Stop. Eating.




It's ridiculous and I'm sure I'm gaining weight which is stressing me out. Too bad my coping mechanism for stress is eating. I spent way too much money at the craft store yesterday so I'd better put it to good use. I feel like I can't focus though, because I have all these ideas of things I would like to do ... For instance, tonight, should I sew some ruffly underwear? A purse? Dolls? Should I do some more watercolors? Should I take some reference photos and start my still life series? Should I just take a nap?

Here is an average day in the life of me:
10am-1pm: wake up, check google analytics, my eBay, myspace, hotmail then go back to bed for bit
12pm-1pm: obligations/errands such as therapy, post office, bank, force me to get out of bed.
1pm-4pm: errands, shopping, eating
5pm-3am: eat, internet, make art/crafts
4am-7am: go to bed.

I guess my schedule is pretty fucked up. But the fact that I actually sketch or sew or think about art is pretty cool. It kind of scares me too though, I keep waiting for it to end. Like when you are learning to ride a bike and you get up and going ... but you know at any second you might fall over and bite it.

A potential job keeps calling me and I keep not answering. My friend Dana calls me like clockwork on her lunch break every day (i don't answer), which without fail, wakes me up. Ugh.

I think underwear sewing is winning out.