I'm not even going to touch on the mediocrity of my writing lately. No, I'm talking about a different hobby: knitting. I realize that things take practice and nobody's a genius their first time out, but... I can't stop making tight stitches, and purling is an absolute bastard to try to work from, and I'm pretty sure I'm turning wrong at the ends of rows, and I can't even do a stupid four-inch swatch let alone follow a pattern that involves even the slightest complexity, and it is pissing me off every time I have to unravel what I've done, which is three times now and will probably be a dozen by the time I finish this project if I ever finish it at all.

I just hate doing things I'm bad at, and I am really bad at this, and I was never good at it when I did it more habitually anyways.

The only physical making-things-that-last craft I'm really good at is making jewelry, which is about as simple as it gets-- put bead on string, repeat. I used to make friendship bracelets with embroidery floss, I was okay at that too. Just, once needles get involved my competency plummets.

I also suck at drawing. I did it for years and I never got any good at it, so I stopped doing it. Sometimes I regret that. Usually when looking at the work of amazing artists like sadynax and shirozora. I do wish I could draw a decent chibi. I'm not aiming for realism, I'd just like my sketches to look anything like their subjects, which they never did, so I gave up on it.

The only hobbies I have I'm willing to claim any sort of competency with now are baking and making podfics, and one of those doesn't translate well outside of fandom-friendly space.

I just get frustrated so easily now, and it makes me want to either cry or throw whatever it is I'm working on out the window (which could fly with a ball of yarn but not so much with my laptop) and neither of those are very mature responses to failing at something.

It doesn't help that my dad is getting on me to start packing my room up. He wants to turn my bedroom into his own personal TV room when I'm in college, which seems premature to me because I'm going to be coming back on the weekends and for breaks, and it's going to bother me if my room isn't my own any more. Not that I can tell him that.

Wow, I am just severely emotionally unstable these days. I don't think I've had one day out of the past week where I haven't wanted to cry about something. It's getting to the point where I don't even have any sympathy left for myself. I need to get a grip on myself in the next three weeks or I'm going to be fucked when I start classes.