So I have this compulsion, occasionally, to buy things. If you've read the blog, the whole thing, you should notice that I have, in the past, said that I just "need to have new things" sometimes, at random times. I'm almost like that person with the house full of weird objects that are covered in dust, almost. Because of this compulsion I have boxes and boxes of shoes I don't wear, really cute dresses that I never wear, books that I don't have time to read, movies I won't bother watching, glitter palettes that I will never use, ten different mascaras, tons of different moisturizing products, four different shampoos, five leave-in conditioners, and who knows how many makeup brushes.
The worst part is that I hate things. I hate having Things. I hate being surrounded by Things. All of these Things cause me a lot of stress. Things, things, things. Things. Things drive me crazy, yet my first crazy compels me to want and buy and fill my space with Things. Fuck my life.
I forget to take my meds a lot. This happens. When this happens, I feel like shit, and I don't want to do anything but wallow in my pain and whatever else I'm feeling as a result of not remembering to take my meds. This means I miss important classes. I miss important things. Then, after I've missed these important things I decide to check if I took my meds, and look---I didn't. I did not take my fucking meds. So this whole fucking myself over hardcore thing could have been avoided if I'd just taken the fucking pills. Seriously---that's just stupid.
Yesterday love dove and I visited his parents who happen to live close to outlets, and that means CCO, and that means I had to go shopping. I practiced very serious restraint and only bought two things, but it was very difficult. I bought MAC MSF natural in medium (which is not my color) and an eyeshadow I didn't need because I'm sure I already have that color, but oh well--it was discounted! Again with the compulsions. Then I started feeling very ill and unwell, as I always feel when I visit his parents' new home. I blame the drive.
And this morning I ordered a nail polish. It's green and cute. After that, an octopus pendant arrived. Then a few more nail polishes arrived. And I still don't have pink nail polish. How odd.
And all this while I wasn't at school learning and getting my money's worth (or, rather, my parents' money's worth) because I forgot to take my medicine.
This all makes me want to hurt myself. It damages my self-esteem, and most importantly, it damages my GPA. If I could cry, that's what I'd be doing. If I could panic, that's what I'd be doing. But I can't. And I shouldn't anyway. I fucked up. I am a little fucked, maybe. Life is about more than a GPA. This will not ruin my life. This will not kill me. It is OK.
P.S. my boyfriend is an amazing human being and should be canonized in all four possible ways.