Motivation, or the lack of same.

I'm a bit out of my element today.

Normally when I'm upset about something or stressed about certain aspects of my life, especially the more intense the feeling, I have this drive to _do_ things. Case in point, last week, after working for 11 hours on Thursday, I got a bit upset over something small, and it felt like a much bigger deal than it was after a long, very busy, tiring day at work, and I had no idea how to make it better. So when I got home at 9:45, knowing I needed to be up at 5:45, I got productive.

I packed up a huge shipment of books, managed my Amazon store, caught up on all my blogs, wrote some emails I'd been meaning to for ages, paid some bills, did an intense and satisfying workout, took a long shower, washed all the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, and prepped some lunch to bring to work the following day.

By 12:30, I finally went to bed. And basically tossed and turned, exhausted but full of energy at the same time, and didn't really fall asleep until a couple of hours later.

Today I'm feeling a little cracked. Nothing big specifically going on. But I'm feeling the overwhelming pressure from various things sort of taking me over today. I've been holding on to certain things and doing so much lately and not really letting it out. And today, I'm feeling that pressure and I'm not holding together so well. Not much I can do about it, really. I'm working until at least 4:00, probably. Not sure exactly what I need, but I'm fairly certain under these specific circumstances I can't get it (right now, anyway).

And the worst part is the way my mind is dealing with it today. I would kill for that satisfying motivation that usually comes with sadness, anger, or aggravation (for me). I would love to have the energy and fire to blitz through all the work I have here, get ahead of the week, and then possibly even get some projects going for the summer.

But instead I'm sitting here writing this and even this is difficult for me to focus on. I'm completely uncoordinated. I know what needs to be done, but I'm having a hard time focusing on what order I should do it in and a hard time focusing on _doing_ it. My mind's too distracted and I'm ending up out of control of it's effect

... ... ...

My father disappointed me, again, today. I don't know how much was genuine and wasn't. I know he was supposed to work late. I know he said he'd try to get out early. I know he seemed to mean it and really miss me. I know he spent over half an hour keeping me on the phone every time I gave him and easy out of the conversation seeming to really want to talk to me. But I trust him less than not at all. And now that he's not free, I find myself not believing for a second that he was ever going to try. That he cared about a thing I told him.

I don't know if that's fair. And honestly, it isn't a surprise even if it is fair. My mother will tell me during the better moments she has concerning my dad that he cries to her sometimes about losing me and Chris. That he feels like he's lost the one (well, two) good thing(s) he's ever done and doesn't know how to make it right.

I wish she _wouldn't_ tell me that.

I came to terms a long time ago with him being an asshole. He was absent, he was emotionally hurtful if not abusive, he was quick to anger, and he never went out of his way to help us to or do anything for us. In fact, he often wouldn't do it even if it was along the way he was already going. I remember a good, happy dad from my childhood, but that's 18 or so years ago. What's happened in between far surpasses that memory.

But he was loving when I was most impressionable. And so it sticks with me, whether I want it to or not. Hearing his voice, I still sometimes feel like a little girl who wants to impress her daddy, or sneak ice cream, or play Zelda all day. And I can never have that with him again. I don't want it (and probably, as an adult, wouldn't want those things even if we had the best relationship). I barely even think of him. But an unfortunate feeling and memory creeps in and lasts sometimes for days, when all I want is to shove it back into it's little repressed corner of my mind.

This, among many other things, is making my day interminable. I wish very much that I'd thought ahead more about today, that this morning went differently, and that I wasn't at work waffling around trying to find motivation to do a job I could do in my sleep. And I don't know how to talk about anything right now. Or to who, for that matter. Or if I even should or need to. I just feel this pressure building and I don't know what to do with it. In case it wasn't obvious enough, I hate feeling out of control. The fact that I've already tried telling myself several times, "just stop thinking, let it go, work, and enjoy your day" and my head's still swimming is annoying.

But here we are. Or I am. And I should really go glaze something now.