Dress: Wholesale-dress.net, Necklace: F21, glasses: Ray-Ban
I think I've been having a hard time lately. I say "think" because it's sometimes hard to tell, with me. I'm often experiencing some sort of inner turmoil, so it's quite normal that I find myself feeling melancholy, or stressed, or anxious, or any combination of the three. But I still think it's worse lately. I seem to have withdrawn even further into myself ever since I was basically home sick for almost two months, due to hives, and then the flu. I didn't do anything social, really, that whole time, except go to Denver Comic Con right after I got over the flu. Returning to SLC was hard after that, because at DCC I was with Shaun and a couple of her friends who I immediately felt comfortable with, because we're all weirdo introvert (I think?) geeks. And then when I was back here in SLC, I hadn't seen any of my girl friends in weeks... and I don't know, I just didn't make an effort. It's so hard to make an effort to be social with people who aren't on the level of sibling, you know? That's nothing against them; they're awesome people, but I've been shitty at being a friend and if you don't maintain the friendship, you have to start all over again. And I'm so shitty at that. So anyway, I've been feeling isolated and weird and... just off.
Plus I gained a bunch of weight after I quit my elimination diet, which happened while I had the flu. There was nothing in the house I felt like eating after puking my guts out except whole wheat bread, so I ate it. The allergist doesn't think my hives are food related anyway. So yeah, I basically starved myself for 5 days while sick, first because there was almost nothing in the house I could eat, and then because I was just too sick to eat. So when I got better, finally, I just went crazy. I ate whatever the hell I wanted, whenever the hell I wanted, and as much as I wanted. Needless to say my body freaked out and I gained about 5 pounds in a couple weeks. I'm about 7 pounds over my comfortable weight right now, and it's hanging over me. Say what you will about accepting yourself for who you are, gaining weight fucking sucks. Most of my skirts and dresses just straight-up don't fit me, as all my weight goes to my stomach/thighs, and the last thing I want is to document how awful I look, and therefore how awful I feel. I may be wallowing in self-pity, but there it is. I'm trying to eat better but it's hard after a few weeks of basically binging on cookies and carbs, and I feel a bit hopeless and depressed a lot of the time.
I think a lot of my mood has to do with the weather. It's super hot and sunny in SLC, and while most people seem to enjoy such weather, as you know, I hate it. It makes me miss London and Portland even more. And one of my best friends just moved back into Portland (she used to live out in a suburb), and when she told me about walking to a bakery from her new place with her husband, and how she'd cried with joy, I cried too. But not from joy. I feel so awful because my life would be perfect... if we still lived in Portland. I love my boyfriend, my dog, my job, my apartment... and I hate this fucking city. I don't have it in me to move anytime soon (I'm so tired of moving on a yearly basis!), and Greg just got his job, so we'll be here for another couple years I'm sure. But I really don't like it here. It's an awful city, it's the most boring place I've ever been, and I want to get out. Thank god for Greg. He seriously does keep me sane. Although I probably won't be dragging the poor guy to Farmer's Market again any time soon. (And I keep reminding myself that he had to suffer through Portland for a year, so I guess it's my turn to suffer... which kind of makes me feel less bleak and more like a hero, but still.)
My writing is going okay. I've started another novel. Not the steampunk one; that one got put in the "maybe I'll write this later, but probably not" pile. Now I'm working on a space opera with a Louis XIV aesthetic. At least I think that's what's going on. All I know is that the nobles all live on "floating estates," which are basically space stations, because they've abandoned the over-populated and slummy planet that they settled on hundreds of years ago. There's a swordsman and space pirates and balls and murders, so that's exciting. I've written the outline and am trying to write about 1,000 words per day, minimum. It's easy for me if I put my mind to it.
I've also decided to start querying agents again for my first novel. I made some minor revisions, but realized in the long run that the protagonist is how I want her to be, and if it turns out that no agent in the entire world likes her and thinks she'll sell, then okay. I'll self-publish. But until I've queried every agent in the world, or at least in the country, I won't give up. I don't feel like truly giving up yet. So... yeah. Readying myself for more rejections!
Sorry for the very long ramble. My mom said she likes it when I'm genuine, so I thought I'd genuinely spill my guts here for everyone to read. After all, introverts are cool with talking about themselves online, or so I have heard.