It's raining in Vancouver, surprise surprise.

I have been so extremely unmotivated lately. And exhausted. I suppose I could chalk this up to a lack of sleep; new relationships are exciting and between texting and visits and school and 6am starts at work, sleep has fallen by the wayside.

But even when I feel caught up and well rested my muscles struggle to simply hold my weight up. My eyes squint against the light of day. I wrestle to keep myself awake, let alone alert and functional. I can't bring myself to study. I don't run any more. I write relatively infrequently. Even climbing, which I used to be so passionate about (you'd be hard pressed to drag me out of the gym), seems too unfulfilling to haul myself out of bed for.

The things I used to seek solace in, don't provide solace any more.

I feel so disconnected from the world, but interestingly enough I feel even more disconnected from myself; a relatively new feeling I'm grappling to come to terms with. I'm losing sight of what I want longterm because I spend so much time focusing on those things that provide an immediate gain. I can't bring myself to do things I don't want to, even if it means ensuring a better future for myself, because I can't rationalize making myself miserable in the present.

This isn't to be confused with unhappiness; I'm beyond content with my life. But sometimes I feel like I'm just disguising this self-destructive path of laziness as a means of perpetuating that happiness. And the longer I stay on that path, the further away I get from that driven, successful woman I know I want to be. And the further away I get from her, the easier it becomes to justify doing absolutely nothing with my life until I fall into a downward spiral of self-loathing and disappointment.

I need to reevaluate my priorities.
I need to get my shit together.