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Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.

Three-thirty in the morning is not kind to the psyche. It is not an hour at which one should be awake, whether by purpose or accident.

It is lonely. It is cold. It is dark.

At such an hour, if one is to be strong and make it through, one should not not not not not listen to heart-wrenching music.

Not especially when one is overly empathic. Not especially if one has been pushed past the breaking point for weeks. Not especially when the whole of the world is crushing down, again and again and again.

And god damn but Adele has a voice.

Such a voice.

It does not surprise me that this song holds so much potential for damage for me. After all, I cried, silently but truly, when the song was performed by one of the queens at the Drag Show.

Benjamin, on my one side, probably did not notice. Raven, on the other, did.

I did not cry during the ever-so moving perfection of the final performance by one of the queens, who flawlessly lip-synced to a stirring song about a drag queen who does it as a job, whilst changing, on-stage, to his everyday clothing and style. It was truly a work of art, in the most basic, pure sense.

I cried during Adele's "Someone Like You", as I am and have been on the verge of tears now.

Too much stress, too much flux, too much change, too much too much too much.

And it shows. I failed another three courses this semester. One is never being offered again, another is not offered in the fall, and the third I am retaking, this time with a professor who cares about his subject and his students.

I nearly failed the team. No one noticed, because I was able to hold it together until the end because that is what needed to be done. But it was a close thing. I did not even give my outgoing seniors anything but a half-smile and empty, hastily-spoken, poorly-planned words. I have been a shambled mess this past semester.


It all boils down to money, it does.

Always money, always harsh words.

In the apartment, short on money, especially as we drift closer to the end of the semester.

On the team, short on money and massive miscommunications to boot. And, on top of that, acting as the go-between for the Enterprise, my team, my teacher liaison, and several other teams in the area.

In the IEEE, not a lack of funds but a lack of access, and the apathy to do anything. God damn sense of duty preventing me from allowing things to slide, I took more on.

LUG having games played on them by advisors.

PFRC full of idiots and trolls, and a few hard-working folk being slowly ground down against each other, like pairs of gears that once were a matched set, but then taken out of the machine, put to abuse in others for revolution after revolution, then forced back together. No longer meshed, the faces rub and grind, split and wear, with the inevitable conclusion to destruction of them all.

And Matt is graduating. And who can blame him for the small, wistful-yet-elated smile that creeps upon his face in such discussions when he thinks no one notices? Hell, I have far more obvious a grin when I think of how I will be leaving this place soon.

I love it, and yet cannot for much longer stand it.

Life would sometimes be better without all the people in it...

I need a break from the people up here, almost all of them. I am snappish and bitter, and have a hard time smiling or even being civil much of the time. I well recognize that I am depressed, and hope that I can either kick out of it myself simply by a change of scenery, or, failing that, professional help. I know well there is no shame in counseling, and I had planned to engage the services offered free to the student body up here.

But life intrudes. I know that is the wrong attitude, that that is the depression talking. I know all that, but I also know there are kernels of truth in it. I know that the Counseling Services department is wildly overbooked and understaffed, even having added a new employee or two in the last year. Really they ought to have the entire floor. I know also that much of the time I would be able to schedule meetings with them, I had classes, or meetings that would get nothing done without me.

But of course that is the point, the reason I am here. I give far too fucking much of myself to anyone and anything that wants a piece. Hell, I give myself to people and things that do not ask for it. I make work for myself. I find work for myself. And yet, I seem to be unable to find myself for myself. I have reserved nothing. And thus, when I need a little, when I need some time, when I wobble a little...I hit the ground hard. Too hard. No cushions.

I have tried expanding my circles, since I have pretty much been unable to find anyone mutually interesting within my current ones. Everyone I know is in one of three lists: a) happily unavailable, b) not interested otherwise, or c) not interesting. I have gone out numerous nights, to the DT, to the Dog, even to the new club. In every case, the folk interested in me were boozed-up and skimpily-dressed, interested in a one-night fling. Call me old-fashioned, but I am not really in the mood for something like that right now. But I see more and more of my friends around me getting together with people, in apparently-stable relationships, and I feel myself becoming the ever-more overshared third wheel. And I try not to be bitter and cynical, because I know that makes me even less attractive, but damn it is hard sometimes.

I also have withdrawn into myself. This is the depression again, and also a function of the outside environment. To whom should I talk?

Benjamin? The man is terminally depressed himself, and always wants to fucking fix things, even in the middle of explanations as to why things cannot be fixed, not easily, possibly not ever. Besides, he also has a seemingly never-ending string of women who he picks up, adores to tears, and then they disappear away. He has far, far too many issues of his own to be useful in helping solve mine.

Anna? I hate to add yet more pain to her. Too much load. She handles shit in even worse ways than I do, and seems on the upswing right now.

Peter? Fuck no. Not productive.

Kiri? Eh, maybe, but probably it would just end up being a mutual bitch-fest about Benjamin, of which I have had far too many of late.

A'Lisa? Again, I hate to load her with more shit, and it would also turn into yet another bitch-fest about Benjamin. Mostly on my part here, because he is a trouble source in my life, and I tend to turn to him when dealing with my shit. A major chapter will need to be made on "My Dealings with Benjamin". This is not to say there will not be an equal chapter of "Fun Things With Benjamin", but it will be there.

Matt? No.

Kevin? No.

Squeaker? Possible, but it would likely turn into a bitch-fest about Benjamin.

Evan? I am not yet comfortable enough there to do so, though he probably is the best option at this time. On the other hand, he will also try to fix things, though not as aggressively as Benjamin would.

Rusty? No, I have barely said ten words to him in the last semester. Mutual fault there -- I went over to ECE/IEEE, he has been...whatever he has been doing. Probably working on graduating.

Krista? Similar to Rusty. I have seen her like twice this semester. I miss Krista. A lot. I should make time to go up and talk with her and Rusty for a while before it is time to leave for the summer, because I am not even sure they are going to be here next fall...

Enterprise folk? Probably the only one I could reasonably talk with is Megan, and it would turn into a bitch-fest about FIRST and the Enterprise in general, and would also probably turn into mutual affirmation. Useful in its extents, but not enough. Besides, we did that at GVSU.

Professors? No. Absolutely no. Not one I know well enough to deal with this. Not that kind of relationship at all.

So, yeah, I need to talk. I need a sink, no judgment, or affirmation, or decisions, or anything, that I can pour shit out into until I am done. Which is probably why I am making my first post in years here, because this is a sink. No one uses this much anymore, not many ever commented even back when this was used.

Am I done? Yeah, I am done. It is nearing a quarter of five, well past time enough to sleep if I want to be anything like productive tomorrow.