I still have to work like hell to get a spare hour or two, but the pressure has eased a little--and that's all I need to strike out against the darkness and continue making progress. I'd been having problems dealing with the side of myself that wants me to fail, but so far I've force-fed it packing foam and kept it still in a back corner of my mind. I've never had more faith in myself than I do at this time in my life, and pessimism has no place for space nowadays. If I begin to feel horrible or do something stupid, I tell myself almost immediately that I just have to keep going. Correct the problems and keep going.

That could be why I only rarely feel like a tired corpse with wilted skin. That's merely a lack of energy, though. I'm not as tempted to indulge in depressing or sullen thoughts as I used to be. Sure the temptation still comes and I still indulge in being sad sometimes, but I think all of the inner work I've done and been doing is having some effect.

I remember when my mom used to talk about the way I was when I was an infant. I very rarely cried apparently, and I was always either smiling or just being quietly me. And apparently, as long as I had a video game or something to occupy me as a kid, I was happy. I don't remember being especially happy as a kid--in fact most if it is a jumble of nostalgia or painful memories, unless I concentrate hard--but I believe her about the infant part.

It'd always seemed so odd to me how I completely shifted to feeling and interpreting things negatively. Could have been my father's idiocy, being ostracized at school, or just one of those odd brain changes that happens. For a long time that negative pattern stayed in place, and I took comfort in it because it felt more real than positive things and all that happy horseshit in advertisements.

I still love dark things and I enjoy being in pain or being sad sometimes, but whatever this positive bent is has taken a hold in me. The playing field is more balanced. I can't be fragmented into artistic pieces or worrying needlessly anymore. Now is a time of strength.

I need to print out some emotion articles, read them and start to think of ideas for the fourth and final short paper due next week. I want to get that thing out of the way because our first statistics midterm is next thursday. I want to concentrate on it as much as I can, but I need to get the other stuff out of the way first.

So it'll be another night of taking my laptop out, finding an appropriate coffee shop and reading the hell out of the articles.

But that isn't as tough as it used to be. I know that we never really talk about the nitty-gritty specifics, so I don't need to focus as deeply as I had been.

On that same note, I've been learning some amusing things about my level of keeping up with statistics and other people. All this time, for instance, I've been reading the book--and at least three other people I know from my study group haven't. That surprised the hell out of me, but then we all have different priorities.

I haven't talked much about the other graduate students. Probably won't get a chance to say much about them for a little bit yet.

I am going to a debate get-together tomorrow, though, so maybe that'll give me an excuse to talk about them. There's a movie night thing afterwards at the same place, but I honestly would feel too guilty to stay for that. I might get guilt-tripped into staying, but I absolutely have to stay focused and keep kicking ass while the slack has let up some. If I don't, I'll get what happened this past week.

I have to stay focused past everything else. So far my friends seem to be in a sane space and not trying to overdose or go mad, so I've been able to entirely focus just on my concerns.

I've spent too long writing, but please know that I'm back on top of everything and feeling pretty good.

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