/ dermatillomania, blood

my picking has been bad lately. my hands are bleeding more often than i’d like, as are my arms. i’m wearing ugly blue gloves right now to curb the urge to pick. i’m writing this entry while i sit with a dull, low ache in my back in the fifth row of my terrible theatre course. i don’t have time to write. or i do, but i’m not allocating my time properly to carve out room in my schedule for writing. there are a few things i’m doing right now that i’m giving a significant amount of my time to:

1. i’m a directing a short film, and it’s hellish, unfortunately. my dear friend who is a member of my team for this film is sitting next to me, so it’s quite possible that he’ll look over and read my screen, but i think that’s okay. i have to edit my screenplay again. i don’t mind, actually, because i do think the changes that my assistant director will make the film better. it is a little hard to make changes to your art though, i think; maybe it will always be hard to kill your darlings. (one of my 22 lessons from 2022 was “sometimes you have to kill all your darlings,” so i guess i better follow my own advice.)
2. my roommates and i are on the last season of bojack horseman lol. i know this sounds silly, but we’ve been trying to get through this series for the last four months, probably, and so we’re watching episodes every other day, it seems. i can’t bring myself to complain about this though, because they’re watching one of my favorite shows! i get to share something that i love with them ! sometimes i don’t really know how they put up with me.

my therapist told me that i need to take time to do things i like, but i’m not good at that. or maybe i am. (see: bojack horseman.) i think i have difficulty gauging my self-care abilities. another way to say this is: i only realize that i’ve fallen short on taking care of myself when my back is hurting so bad that i can’t get up off the ground or i haven’t showered in three days so my hair looks like that evil white bird nigel from the rio film franchise or something else along those lines. i do not know how to get better in this respect. life is too short too long too short too long too.

i asked my sister whether she was depressed last night, and she didn’t have an answer. “half the time,” is what she really said, but that’s what she says every time; she likely has bipolar disorder. my sister refers to her manic periods as “awake” and depressive periods as “asleep.” she’s transitioning right now—from asleep to awake—and has been going on shopping sprees to prove it. she showed me the shoes her brain told her to buy two days ago; they are neon lime green birkenstock knock-offs, and they are simply hideous. i told her as much. she responded that she knew.

my sister has been diagnosed with bipolar for months now, and i still don’t really know how to help her. how do i offer comfort? how do i offer advice that isn’t unkind? i don’t know. i’ve read countless articles trying to answer these questions, asked old friends with loved ones with the condition, and i still don’t know. i don’t know how to make her love herself or make myself take care of myself better.

and this is where i leave you.