Motivation is for wussies
Apr. 20th, 2010 11:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressWell, now that I'm already fifteen minutesan hour late for class, I might as well post, and try to sort through why.
Because seriously. Class is down the stairs right there, and around the corner. It has been for the entirety of the last forty-five minutes I've been sitting here. I just can't work up the motivation to go right now, and that is increasingly bothersome.
It's bothersome because I like Dr. Benson, and I like multivariate calc, and I like crushing quietly on Andrea and on the hot suitpunk1 boy who sits at my table. And it's bothersome because I have only been doing "okay" at keeping up with the material, and I don't know if we had a quiz today I should've taken. And it's bothersome because I need to actually show up so I can pass this class so I can graduate college so I can live happily ever after in the shithole job of being a high school teacher.
And it's really really bothersome because I had a conversation recently with someone who was somewhat convinced that I had no idea what I am doing with my life, and this just feels like I'm proving them right.
I get this way pretty often. Telling me I'm an irresponsible slut2 is a really good way to give me a burst of motivation -desire to prove your ass wrong- but it comes at the expense of me no longer being able to trust you with myself. And it's feasible for the frustration to exist independent of the motivation, meaning I get into funks like right now, where I just can't deal with things like class.
(And of course, this is not just about the class, or even about the motivation. I am also exhausted, mentally and physically and emotionally and socially, and tired of my head being fuzzy, and so ready to just sleep for a month and wake up after I've finished my junior year. I don't want to plan my immediate future (this summer), and I certainly don't want to work on my plan for a long-term future. I just want to withdraw from the world, possibly into a pair of arms that don't require any work3, and turn my mind totally off.)
And I appear to be out of useful things to say. I think it's time to go home and nap for twenty minutes and force myself to listen to some power ballads and get some _goddamn things done_. Because complex social interactions just don't count as accomplishments, in that fuzzy part of my brain that needs me to Do Things to be happy. Especially not complex social interactions that involve talking about triggers and bad shit in my brain. I've been putting up with those for three days in a row now, and I'm done.
I really do need to not forget how emotionally wearing it is to talk about why I'm fucked up.
ATANYRATE...tl;dr = wah wah, Sorcy is demotivated and wahhhhh4.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I have no idea if suitpunk is a real term. But nice jacket and a vest over a t-shirt, and tousled hair, and five or six pieces of metal in his face? Oh, it is *unfair* how hot he is.
2: Yes, this happened. Not in the recent conversation, in an older one, and not quite in so many words, but yeah. Yeah. Do you have any idea how much of a smack in the face it feels like when one of your closest friends points out that your "stupid insecurities" are well-founded?
3: Hint, this removes almost all of you, except maybe Veronica. And mom. Mom always wins this one.
4: Is it possible for me to be emo without also being self-deprecating about the fact that, ohmygod, I am not perfectly happy all of the time, what's up with that? No, no it is not. I am a being of hedonism and joy, and therefore get unreasonably upset at myself when I am not smiles and sunshine and perfectly happy with everything all of the time.
Because seriously. Class is down the stairs right there, and around the corner. It has been for the entirety of the last forty-five minutes I've been sitting here. I just can't work up the motivation to go right now, and that is increasingly bothersome.
It's bothersome because I like Dr. Benson, and I like multivariate calc, and I like crushing quietly on Andrea and on the hot suitpunk1 boy who sits at my table. And it's bothersome because I have only been doing "okay" at keeping up with the material, and I don't know if we had a quiz today I should've taken. And it's bothersome because I need to actually show up so I can pass this class so I can graduate college so I can live happily ever after in the shithole job of being a high school teacher.
And it's really really bothersome because I had a conversation recently with someone who was somewhat convinced that I had no idea what I am doing with my life, and this just feels like I'm proving them right.
I get this way pretty often. Telling me I'm an irresponsible slut2 is a really good way to give me a burst of motivation -desire to prove your ass wrong- but it comes at the expense of me no longer being able to trust you with myself. And it's feasible for the frustration to exist independent of the motivation, meaning I get into funks like right now, where I just can't deal with things like class.
(And of course, this is not just about the class, or even about the motivation. I am also exhausted, mentally and physically and emotionally and socially, and tired of my head being fuzzy, and so ready to just sleep for a month and wake up after I've finished my junior year. I don't want to plan my immediate future (this summer), and I certainly don't want to work on my plan for a long-term future. I just want to withdraw from the world, possibly into a pair of arms that don't require any work3, and turn my mind totally off.)
And I appear to be out of useful things to say. I think it's time to go home and nap for twenty minutes and force myself to listen to some power ballads and get some _goddamn things done_. Because complex social interactions just don't count as accomplishments, in that fuzzy part of my brain that needs me to Do Things to be happy. Especially not complex social interactions that involve talking about triggers and bad shit in my brain. I've been putting up with those for three days in a row now, and I'm done.
I really do need to not forget how emotionally wearing it is to talk about why I'm fucked up.
ATANYRATE...tl;dr = wah wah, Sorcy is demotivated and wahhhhh4.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I have no idea if suitpunk is a real term. But nice jacket and a vest over a t-shirt, and tousled hair, and five or six pieces of metal in his face? Oh, it is *unfair* how hot he is.
2: Yes, this happened. Not in the recent conversation, in an older one, and not quite in so many words, but yeah. Yeah. Do you have any idea how much of a smack in the face it feels like when one of your closest friends points out that your "stupid insecurities" are well-founded?
3: Hint, this removes almost all of you, except maybe Veronica. And mom. Mom always wins this one.
4: Is it possible for me to be emo without also being self-deprecating about the fact that, ohmygod, I am not perfectly happy all of the time, what's up with that? No, no it is not. I am a being of hedonism and joy, and therefore get unreasonably upset at myself when I am not smiles and sunshine and perfectly happy with everything all of the time.
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no subject
on 2010-04-21 05:21 am (UTC)one thing that often helps me when I am feeling entirely unmotivated is to do just one, small, productive thing from my to-do list. it usually gives me a boost of "yay I did something" energy, to get more stuff done.
I am often repeating things my therapist has said to me, both to myself and to friends. even a few sessions might be extremely helpful to you, and they should be free or extremely low cost through the school. :)
*hugs*