I've come to the conclusion that I'm broken.

No, really. I think I'm broken.

Today I discovered a few things about myself.

1.) When faced with adversity, I abandon all logic. Now, I pride myself on my skills in solving riddles and puzzles and all sorts of logical type things; hell, I passed the AP Physics exam. But in real-life scenarios, I never resort to common sense.

For example. I have had a migraine for five hours straight. I tried watching a movie. I tried eating ice cream. I consumed copious amounts of caffeine and chocolate. All this accomplished was transforming me from a mildly irritated migraine victim to a migraine victim who was so awake she could feel the earth vibrating.

So what did I do? I walked in circles. I fucking PACED. I paced like I was a professional pacer in the Pacing Olympics. Needless to say, migraines trump pacing.

When pacing failed, I flopped on my floor. I lay there in agonizing misery. No more attempts to quell my headache from hell were made.

Then, of all things, my brother set off the house alarm. Instead of doing anything, I cradled my head and sobbed uncontrollably. I win at life.



2.) I have a crippling, all-consuming fear of finishing anything. Now, I had never really noticed this before today. But after 45,000 words out of 50,000 for the NaNo novel, I physically COULD NOT do anything more. I stared at it. I pounded helplessly at the keys. Nothing worked. That was when I realized it.

I've never finished anything in my life. Not really. Things that should be over, that normal people would consider over, they're just not. And I can't help it. I've tried to, but it doesn't work, and I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I feel like if I just complain enough, if I address the problem, maybe it will go away.

It isn't.



3.) I'm incapable of expressing the right emotions.

When I'm sad, I smile and laugh. When I should be unbelievably ecstatic, I'm overcome with depression. Even right now, when everything in my life is turning out, I just want to get out. I don't even know what I want to get out of, but I feel trapped. And why the hell should I? I'm trapped in a perfect fucking world, and I can't escape.

Normal people would be happy with this life. At least, I imagine they would. I don't have cancer and my house isn't haunted and I don't think I have any untreatable genetic disorders and I'm not starving or freezing to death, so why aren't I happy?

I think I'm broken.