Fuck “Just Do It”
Posted by Pythia on December 28, 2009
Knowing what I need and want to do and not being able to do a damned thing is the most frustrating and dominant aspect of my life. Not a damned thing about it, just a damned thing, anything, anything at all about it or anything else. Immobile.
I see the tripe that gets published, and I know that I can do better than that. I have no delusions about my writing ability, but so much of what’s out there is so poorly written that it’s actually hard to read. And yet, it gets published.
What is the difference between me and those published authors? They write, I don’t.
And fuck the “just do it” crowd. Tell me to just do it when you have to drug yourself just to get to sleep. Tell me to just do it when the lithium that you take fogs your brain so badly that you can barely string a sentence together. Tell me to just do it when you can’t drag yourself out of bed at any point in the day, much less in the morning. Tell me to just do it when you can’t concentrate long enough to remember what you wanted to say between forming the thought and putting the pen down on the paper. Tell me to just do it when you can’t get your work done because anxiety clouds your every thought.
Tell me to just do it after you’ve lived a day of my life—then, then, I might just take you seriously.
Retha said
I know the feeling, I just don’t have enough energy to do anything. Sometimes I know what I want to say but the words just don’t want to come out. I want to sleep the whole day. Is this going to get better, I don’t have any emotions, is this the lithium or the bipolar?
Wez Jolliffe said
LOL here’s a nice cup of cement, how harden the fuck up, Cyril. I’m bipolar, i hate life, and i take both lithium and illegal drugs of varying sorts. I write, although not much, I make music, also not much. It is never an effort for me to do these things. If it’s an effort for you to write, like a massive effort, then maybe you’re NOT good at it. As for no motivation, being depressed, etc, what about the other half the time? God whining bipolars make me wanna cut my own wrists to escape you all talking about how you want to cut yours. Fuck off and die in a fire.