Stress and its effect on me.

Stress has been an everpresent spectere in my life. I don't think I have ever had a day in my life where I was entirely unstressed. Maybe when I was young, but I don't recall it. Because it has been so prevolent in my life, I have grown accustom to being anxious and paranoid about the future. This is fine by me but sometimes my stress gets to the point where I find myself standing in a room staring at nothing in particular for minutes on end. There have been days where I wake up at 8:00 a.m. and can not modivate myself to get out of bed untill noon.

This is part of the reason that I am starting this blog. It seems that as soon as I get propelled to my computer desk and I write my first sentence, I am no longer crippled. I can somewhat breathe freely, I can focus on the words dancing across my cathode ray tube as my fingers buisly light from key to key, crafting sentences and makeing the familiar squishy click of my blister button keyboard. When I stop, reality crashes in like a heavy wave, seemingly drowning me where I stand. My heart goes back to its familliar heavy feeling, I feel an elephant is sitting on me, and I feel the tears begin welling back to my eyes where they rest, waiting to pour out as soon as I let my guard down.

I'm gonna try to make myself write more so I feel better! It may be that I'm manufacturing work for myself, or that I'm repressing some deeper underlying problem, something conserning my constand trust issues and everpresent anxienty that I'm living a lie, but as for now, this is my best bet at making myself feel normal in this best of all possible worlds. Someday mu meaningless existance will end and I won't feel nomore so I want to feel calm and happy for as much of my life as I can. If it is required of me to blast Queen and type furiously into a copy of Dreamweaver from 2004 for me to feel normal and calm, then so be it, I shall!

I hope that this doesnt come off as meaningless drivle, and I beg of you to not worry. One day, I'll finish my work and I shan't feel stress any longer than that day. That day is far off in the distance, and I shant exit this mortal coil before my work is accomplished. I don't even know what I am working toward, but I will one day! Maybe my job is to provide a little peak into the world and life of a deeply upset young adult, doing the things that make him feel levity. Maybe.

Maybe my words will be overlooked by most everyone but those who I show it to. If they are, I wouldn't mind. Just a vortex where I pour out the contince of my soul and where noone pays much mind to it. Either way, I will continue to type on a simi regular pace!

I guess this about all I wish to divulge about myself for now. Maybe I'll look back on this and giggle at myself for being such a gloomy gus.

-Joseph Harold, Typographical error generator supreme.