Stock Image, but very close to how my bed looks right now (I don’t own a Beats Pill… I don’t know anyone who does…)
“I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death.”
It’s actually been quite difficult to complete my more serious plans for my blog considering I either am working far too much or my days off are filled with me being so sick I can’t accomplish anything. That being said, it’s 1 am and here comes a thought…
I can’t say there’s anything glamorous about my life. I can’t say if anyone actually reads my musings and enjoy them. I can’t even say this blog gets much traffic other than the few loyal that haunt me like friendly little ghosts in the dashboard stats. But, I can say that no matter what, I am trying…
My world has always been filled with misfortune in which being socially acceptable, kind, and approachable and being quite literally someone who gives zero fucks are constantly at war with each other.
The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson
Yet one thing that does not change is my work ethic.
People who are outside looking in, always believe my aversion to jobs — 9-to-5s, retail, customer service, food service, sanitation, even becoming apart of the american dream in a white collar position — is nothing more than a simple laziness and that often I am merely hiding behind my illness. That my Schizoaffective Disorder is a convenience so that I don’t have to function in society. Its even been labeled a burden for others around me.
However, it is not a burden that defines me, nor is it a simple convenience. It is simply a facet of me and it has nothing to do with my work ethic. Everyday that I have energy and breath I wake and put pen to paper, fingertip to keyboard, and mouse clicks to research links. I digitally socialize, I scroll through Facebook and Twitter, but I am also always working. My mind is a constant factory of ideas and production, arranging core thoughts, edits, information, and lore at such speeds that it has to compete with the severe anxiety and obsessive thoughts that act as spontaneously shifting tectonic plates beneath the surface of a fragmented mind.
But I still work. Continue reading