a space for me

Posts

  • 4/15/25 11:11 pm

    i just want to be left alone. i am begging. god please just give me peace. please just let me live. i wont ask for friends or family or anyone if i can just be left alone. please. i can live a solitary life. please just leave me alone.

    everytime i speak i’m told “BACK OFF” or “BE QUIET”. i dont know what i am supposed to do. i never know what im supposed to do. every choice is wrong and ends in catastrophe. just even saying “here’s the white scissors” got me in so much shit today. what am i supposed to do. every word that comes out of my mouth is an offense. even when i don’t speak i’ve done enough. i put my arm on my leg and it made a tiny sound. worst mistake of my life.

    “i’m not putting up with your shit.” i am told every single day. i am walking on eggshells yet somehow i come across as intentionally trying to ruin everyone’s life. i have a breakdown every day. i cry at least 3x. i cant do anything right. i’ll get to the point where the screams get to me and ill break. every single day. i’ll yell back. and thats the mistake i make every time. i snap and it turns into me needing to be held against my will in a psych unit.

    now my medication is the source of “all my issues”. any time i react to being screamed at or do anything wrong it turns into me needing a different medication bc this one is just making me worse. i took it really late one day bc i slept for a really long time, then i took it at the normal time the next day and i had a bad reaction. it hadn’t been long enough between doses. it took another day to be back to normal and ever since its become the target. i will be doing something for her and then get accused of being so catastrophically mean and rude. “you need different medication”

    she keeps calling someone and lying about me on the phone. i listened in tonight and got even more upset because it is all literal blatant lies. she kicked me in the ribs tonight. but somehow my perception is all wrong, and at the same time it was in self defense. so did it happen or not? it can’t be both ways. im being provoked to freak out by being ignored. i just want to be acknowledged and never will be. the more i get ignored the more upset i get and ive become rageful. i dont like who im turning into. my hurt is turning hard. every time my actions and words are gone over with a fine tooth comb i have to use so much self control to not do something horrible.

    she’s on the phone right now talking about how hard it is to live with me. how awful i am to be around. and then taking what i’ve said about how hurt i am and how i have no one who cares and using it has her words. the person she’s talking to is someone she hates. and someone who neglected me as a child. someone who doesn’t give 2 shits about anyone but themself. but now they’re such a faithful source. i cant help but remember how i would overhear what my mom would say about me on the phone to other people when i was in 3rd grade. i would sit on the stars and just listen. what could i possibly be doing in 3rd grade that warrents complaining to everyone in your life about how awful i am? what is it? what am i constantly doing wrong but cannot understand? why cant i be told when i ask? i beg to be told what is wrong but the answer is obvious to everyone on the planet but myself. its some sick prank on me. i dont get to know. i don’t get to know what is so fundamentally wrong with me that no one cares.

    i just want peace. please give me peace. i want to be able to wake up and not be told i already did something wrong. i want to go one day without being screamed at.

    she’s speaking so loud now about how i make it so hard to live in this house. she knows i can hear. and talking about all these diseases she has now because of me. all undiagnosed. “congestive heart failure” “failing immune system” are the current ones. she claimed to have 2 kinds of cancer years ago. and now about how all my opinions and feelings come from what people say on the internet. my not wanting to be ignored is because of what people are saying on the internet. it could never be my genuine feelings. its all bc someone on tiktok said its abuse. story of my life. any adult who has ever been in my life has stripped my actions or feelings from me and claim its from someone else forcing me or brain washing me. why can’t it just be from me?

    she’s talking to much louder now and has so much more hatred for me as it goes on. i lose myself writing this, dissociate and it feels like a separate thing from my life but then that pulls me right back in. its all real. this is all real. and i will never escape. its such a joke to think i ever could. every attempt has made things worse. WHY DOES SHE HATE ME? WHY? WHY? WHAT AM I DOING WRONG??????? I CAN NEVER GET IT RIGHT. PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE. STOP LYING ABOUT ME. STOP ACCUSING ME OF BEING MEAN. I WAS TRYING TO MAKE U A DMV APPOINTMENT BC U WONT MAKE ONE AND EACH ONE I MAKE YOU YOU DONT GO TO. HOW WAS I BEING A TERRIBLE HUMAN????????????????? HOW????? WHY AM I SO DUMB??????? WHY DID YOU HAVE ME? WHY AM I HERE? I DONT MATTER TO ANYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM HERE TO BE ABUSED

  • 2/24/25 7:24 pm

    i’m gonna do it one of these days. i am not going to see next year. how many times can someone break and have nervous breakdowns until that threshold collapses. i thought the breakdowns were the lowest. like that was the worst one could feel. and they keep happening. its almost normal now. hyperventilating, sobbing on the floor, moaning, drool and snot running, fully shaking, vision blurred, all alone. she doesnt care. if she did i wouldnt have to live like this.

    i just want my dog to have a good home. it breaks me more than anything. ive been trying to stay just for her. she loves me. shes the only one out there that cares about me. and i dont even get to live with her rn. i just want my dog, to hold her and have her lick my tears. she deserves so much better than ive ever been able to provide. i couldn’t be enough.

    i hope before i lose it beyond losing it that maybe ill go out like debbie reynolds. dying from a broken heart. those in the media dont know its beyond the heart. (its a good thing they don’t know) every day theres incidents that bring me more and more to tears. 4x today at least. i lost count. one of these days it will end me. i have felt close to death before. hell, i have even cheated death multiple times somehow, not really with my doing but something beyond, the body taking over. but i know in my soul that this is it. this is the final year. and its so selfish but if theres an afterlife i just want my dog with me. thats all i ask.

    to say i wouldn’t wish my life on someone else isn’t enough. each time i have a breakdown i dissociate again to when things were bad with both of them. not real/blacking out, and then the shock that this is real life, then that this is my reality and it has never and will never change. and i know so many people have it worse. i’m not chained up in a basement. (i have gratitude. i know there still are things i have that are not guaranteed. i was born with talents, intelligence, sense, all my limbs, the fact that i haven’t gotten sick [besides with covid]since fall 2023 after being chronically ill for years, and many more.)but i fear and have had this fear for a while that i will develop DID from my lifelong dpdr and lifelong circumstances that leave me retraumatized over and over and over again. and i hate how i sound saying all of that. its such overused language on the internet by people who wish they had such. to wish this? i cant even speak on that. (rereading this, imo it doesnt sound how i fear, thankfully)

    i slammed my head into a wall. by choice. what a lump i have now. being told that my incorrect reaction doesn’t warrant any pathos during today’s nervous breakdown took me over the edge while i thought i already was. i just want to keep slamming my head until. i was thinking the other day that i hope this is just a simulation. idk how that would make anything better though. a lot of times i also think that anything good in the world is dependent on my pain, but thats narcissistic and there is so much terror out there. this is no world of even a middle ground between positive and negative. this is the universe where everything “went wrong”. i hope there’s parallel universes where this is not the case and we are just in one of the variations. i have 2 strange memories or something from since the time i was sentient that are ingrained in my brain like they came from when i was being born. 1. i vowed to take on immense suffering, 2. no one will ever love me and no one will ever know why; they all assumed someone else would. idk if that was a trauma response from the womb or if i sound out of my damn mind.

    i’m scared im concussed but its hard to say bc im starving, still shaking, quite anxious, etc. i saw no stars but im nauseous and a bit dizzy but again there’s a lot going on here.

    i feel like a fool in so many ways. to believe things could improve. to believe things would ever be different. to even write all this. i was going to say that i wished there was just 1 someone who cared about me. and i realize i do have that. my dog. if i only know one thing, i know she loves me. i’ve been told that she would love anyone who feeds her, maybe thats true but at least i do it. i would do it either way. and that’s more than i can say for the person who said that.

  • 2/9/25 5:04 – pm god why is this the cycle that is my life

    everytime i think i’ve had the worst day of my life, it soon gets topped by something even more atrocious.

    i dont want to live. i dont want to go on. there is no future where i can just be. why did i mention the fact that i beat my mom in tennis? it just all snowballed into me being a whore because a family member molested me for years as a kid and getting my hair yanked out of my head. im sick to death of this being my reality. i dont have the words to say how i feel. im so fucking hurt. IM FUCKING HURT. WHY AM I IGNORED BY EVERYONE EXCEPT TO BE ABUSED. WHY. PLEASE SOMEONE GIVE ME AN ANSWER. im hated by every single person i meet. and i dont know what i’m doing wrong to make this happen. it feels so inevitable.

    i debated stabbing myself with a knife the night it happened. i’m so pathetic. i cant do anything.

    no one’s going to read this. why even bother.

  • 1/23/25 3:26 AM – realization & clarity

    i think ive finally beat my period psychosis. i think its really tough, for anyone really, bc we’re constantly fed so much negativity. and never easily shown inspiration. i started on youtube tonight watching mindless bs, felt worse, then someone popped into my head.

    i took a trip down memory lane. i checked in on this girl who i didn’t know irl, but she went to my sleep away camp the session prior to mine, and was 1-2 yrs older. she was like one of the first, at least imo, one of the first internet famous girls from tumblr. she abruptly left and came back but never gained the support/admiration she once had. i went to her her youtube channel and it had no recent videos, but i scrolled down pretending to not know what i would find at the very bottom. avoiding this video bc i didn’t want to be sad, i came across her insta. then out of curiosity i scrolled (on desktop) all the way to the bottom of her posts, just to see if there was anything from back then. there wasn’t.

    i went back, hesitating clicking on the video. but after watching 2 other ones for a few seconds, i knew i had to do it. the video was about of her last year of sleepaway camp, the session prior to my 2nd year there. it was a montage video set to a song special to the place, and i was astounded. how long has it been since ive seen this video? how much have i forgotten about my own time there? there were so many people i had forgotten about, who were older than me and seemed so cool (and hot at the time lol). all the places i forgot about: the store, the gaga pit, the boys field, the girl’s bathroom, the teatherball, cho beach. wow. surprisingly, i didn’t get sad. if anything it made me so grateful. i complain about my life alot, but if i had to miss my 4 years of sleepaway camp for a perfect life, i dont think i could do it.

    i used to watch this video multiple times a week a decade ago. now 14 years later, everyone in the video looks so young. but also so free and fearless. so wild and alive knowing this is the place they can roam free and be nuts bc they’re on their own. take risks, be dangerous, try new things without consequence or commitment. this essence missing from our lives now. this essence isn’t something we can ever get back. it’s not something we can buy, its not relivable. but i think knowing could be the secret. remembering. never ever forgetting. and looking to the past to these videos of maybe not us, but people in the same place living the same experience to feel like alive again. everything was so simple then, and insecurity was so tiny: are my legs too hairy? is my bathing suit too blue? somehow we had our priorities right then. free from inhibition, focused on how to have the most entertaining time, doing our camp cheers and dance routines, doing anything without fear of judgement. where did that all go? when did we all change?

    this made me ravish through the internet to find anything i could from my years there. i remet so many famous faces i had forgotten, all of their nicknames. and then people conjured up out of the back of my head due to their absence online. granted, i’m not surprised there weren’t so many photos to dig through like there are now. posting children on social media back in the early 2010s was a bit of a no no. we had a password protected site to see the photos after we came home. (crazy that that’s even necessary but thats a whole other topic). id do anything to see them all again. but this lacking just makes the memories not captured even more valuable. no one will remember for me, so if it’s actually important to me, i must treat it as such.

    i used to get so upset thinking about how i could never go back to sleepaway camp. it would bring me to tears. but i guess growing up really changes the perspective: never be sad over not going back, be happy you were fortunate enough to have these experiences of a lifetime. the amount of stories i have, i pray to god i never forget them. i know other people who never went, and honestly i feel genuinely sorry for them. i wish every kid got to go. it’s the first time living on your own with your friends and fending for yourself, making your own choices. encouraged to be wild, and silly, and happy. once you age out, you realize you took it for granted, cuz you’ll never find that place again in the adult world. at least not stemming from innocence.

    i took to all forms of social media. i scrolled to the bottom of my insta to see the 2 posts i have from back then. most of my camp friends don’t follow each other anymore. which is fine. (i wont lie though, that hurt at first.) seeing how grown up everyone is was beyond. one girl got married, another has 2 kids, 2 guys are ripped and full grown men (last time i saw them they were 13 lol), some i fully forgot about, others gone without a trace. some of us have the most insanely random mutuals. i guess that makes us still connected irl in a way. we all grew to be such separate individuals and theres a beauty in that. we knew we didn’t have to be the same people, that wasn’t even a thought back then. we never forced the friendships to continue or drag. if anything we didn’t talk much outside of camp since we were too young for social media or even phones at the time. yet, we always picked right back up the following summer. my last year there, a few people still had one more to go. we also all had instagrams that year so there was finally a way to keep in touch for the first time. no more misspelled emails or house phone numbers, or ichat usernames all on a sheet of paper destined to be lost the second we drive off the lot. but i’m glad we didn’t have whats out there now. there were always 3-4 kids who snuck in a phone and would complain when it got confiscated. but we always felt they weren’t here for the right reasons. why go to camp if your just gonna be on your phone the whole time?? but this was back when the majority of life was offline.

    i’ve always felt there’s still a kid inside of me. but that has disappeared. quite recently, though, due to extenuating circumstances at school, etc. my “friends” got annoyed when i would tell a story about camp that was brought to mind over some detail mentioned in current conversing. they eventually didn’t care about anything i had to contribute and would get annoyed by my sheer presence. my roommates made me a target and everything i did was put under a microscope. i could feel myself, my personality, becoming completely diminished. and i guess i changed. i adapted to being the leper and my mind became a void. i was intentionally muting myself. this tonight gave me what i need. this has shown me what’s missing: being myself again. i had been doing it right all along. and this 1.5 yr blip in time at this school cannot alter my deepest being*. i’m so unhappy and its because of my doing. i have to honor her, the girl who was 12 years old and learned how to sail in 2010. the girl i’ve been neglecting to stay alive, but if i kill her, i die either way.

    i’m out of that house now. i still have to go back for my stuff, but maybe this is a turning point in my recovery. now is the time to feed me. form opinions. find what i like again. SPEAK. i was never shy. i never feared ridicule or judgement. i need my curiosity back. i need to mend my jaded eyes. i need to ask myself “why not?”. this night proves boredom can lead to great things.

    i hope more people look to the past when questioning themself/their life. remember who you were as a kid. they’re still within you. give into the essense exuded upon discovery. i really think a video is the way to start. in this medium it can all be felt and reach so far inside you. the world wants you to forget this feeling. they don’t want you to know that what you’re looking for is you. whether they know this or not, it cannot be monetized. (but again, that can be a whole other topic.)

    and my last point, a final thought about all this, is the lack of consumption. this all comes from experience, and life, and human to human connection, what we’re made for! at sleepaway camp i met with strangers, in a weird new place in nature, with nothing to rely on but myself. you can’t buy that. (ok yes u can buy it, like my mom bought my spot in the session, but u catch my drift). i’m getting delirious at this point and need to sleep but my point is that the most fulfillment i had came from a lack of all that’s pushed on us right now, making all of us so miserable.

    i hope to continue this another night, but for now goodnight 😴

    *it’s not just this obviously. this one part of my life rn isn’t the reason for everything but it’s been my breaking point after a long long time of persevering.

  • 1/21/25 5:08 AM – disappointment.

    i feel like i sound like an asshole. and shallow.

    ive reread what ive posted so far and only my first post feels like anything worthy. i really was speaking then. maybe i wasn’t. i don’t even know what to think anymore. my own thoughts read on paper sound so shallow and stupid. what about the stuff that matters? where is that? i have to try harder and get to that space mentally i assume. could it be my charisma is all gone? do i really sound so annoying in real life? god, what now. even i dont want to hear me. and i feel so phony writing. i sound like a pick me bitch who has no thoughts. i dont even know what i care about anymore.

    disgusting.

    why am i anything? i want to choke on dirt and infect my lungs. even that sounds like a 5 year old. everything about me is so fucking stupid. any pain is well deserved. fucking useless scum. you offer nothing to this world. everything u dont want to be would be a step up from who you are. delusional and pathetic to think anything else. you will never be great bc you hold nothing inside of you. you are the poser you see in everyone else. you are a total fraud and a waste of life. you are a lie.

  • 1/21/25 3:53 AM – hmph

    i always think of what i want to say while doing my skincare. or other mindless stuff. i wish i could record my thoughts. not cuz i think they’re so brilliant or something but bc its all in there laid out and then in a moment completely gone. it’s weird. the duality of oneself. the machine that is the brain and then the conscious being within us: the very voice reading this in my head right now. i feel like they can be 2 very separate beings sometimes. like in this case. but it’s all seen as one.

    i’m getting my period so i may sound quite melodramatic today. i got the pre pre pre warning of a mini brown puddle. wow, i checked my app like a week ago and it said 5 days til. and today it says 4 days away. time’s been moving very slowly i guess. or would that make it fast? i’m not sure but either way im tired. i’m in a constant cycle of feeling ok and then reverting, falling back into everything. maybe wellbutrin isn’t for me anymore. or maybe its just my period coming. maybe i shouldn’t go down that rabbit hole of sadness.

    my skin is a wreck. i’m not someone who ever really had acne. ive been trying to fix my skin, but somehow its just getting worse. ive noticed for 2 years now, on and off my face will smell like rotten eggs when i wake up in the morning. i know. i sound like some gross freak on the internet who never showers, but i promise im not. apparently it’s from my sebhorreic dermatitis. but like rotten eggs??? really???? ive been using nizoral for my face, body and shampoo. the last time i used it was in 2018…oops. wednesday will be a week of this. theres like 2 products out there that wont trigger seb derm. ignorance is bliss honestly. hopefully all this crap is just hormonal acne cuz jeez!!!! the right side of my face can’t catch a break! (the left is completely fine??)

    i hate it when my mom has a tiff with her bf. she’ll be sad/angry all night after and won’t talk to me. i wish my dog was with me right now. i wish we lived in a better place. i wish i could go one day without doing something wrong.

    i accidentially shaved off half my left eyebrow. like angus thongs and perfect snogging. i loved that movie in 6th grade. lol i rewatched it summer 2023 and was kinda dissappointed. that seems to happen when i revisit things i loved as a child. but i guess thats a good thing. im not 12 anymore so it would be sad if i had the same exact likes and opinions lol. but there are some people out there like that. i figure those people may be in their earlier lives, if reincarnation and all that exists. i think im in my last (or second to last but i think that’s a stretch).

    since my frontal lobe fully developed back in december, something like clicked in my head. i can’t really explain it, but i guess maturity and knowledge met in a new place. i see things clearer yet i see it all the same. i just dont feel the need to express everything. i can understand without needing approval or camaraderie. hm idk. not to be a douche but iykyk.

    my mom said to remind her on sunday about signing up for art classes. i never did. i feel too guilty right now cuz it’s really expensive and money’s not great rn. i dont even have the amount in my bank account rn otherwise i wouldn’t want to rely on my mom as a deadbeat in my mid to late 20s. ugh. that feels like such a reveal. it makes me want to cry. i’ll never feel my age. earlier when i was washing my face i got a little freaked out because the person in the mirror didn’t look like a kid. i had hat hair, 1.5 brows, hormonal acne, all the makings of years prior, but something was off. but then a little later it went away. maybe it’s like how when u stare at yourself for too long you start to look deformed. but i’m starting to not recognize myself. more often than not. or at least not so much when im not all dressed.

    acknowledging my age just triggers so many thoughts and expectations and pains of what hasn’t happened. in my sociology class they said 35 is the new 25 bc my generations at such a disadvantage economically, and socially. but there’s still people my age or younger having kids. thats all so scary to me. i’m no where near ready for that. i dont even want kids. i do in theory one day but i’m still too messed up for all of that. i can barely take care of myself everyday. i need to walk my dog more. and i’m trying my hardest. a kid deserves everything to be set up just right for them. i havent even had a serious relationship. or like a relationship. ive never been like hey guys this is my boyfriend. he hasn’t existed. i’ve liked guys and ive been involved and it just never works out, but also they’re never really who i want anyway. i haven’t like actually liked a guy in 7-8 years. and even then, oh boy that was not an ideal thing. most recently i got ghosted. we got coffee and he talked the entire fucking time and then ghosted me. like. ur kidding right. he was disappointing anyway. not much substance.
    i dont mean to sound like a total asshole but my looks aren’t the problem. they aren’t a problem at all. if anything that’s one of the only things going for me. but also i guess i’m not that interested in these guys either. the connection’s just not there. i see so much facade and performance and bullshit. it’s taken a long time but i’ve come to terms with the fact that i’ll probably be alone. and like yeah that does hurt typing that. but what, i should fake it all so i’m not alone? being alone has never been an issue for me. it would just be nice is all. a want, not at all a need, to have a pretty guy around. oh well. i see others who cant be alone. but a majority of life is just you with u. and there’s a multitude of this you. its not just you singular. (wow deja vu?). the intuitiveness this brings is long thrown away by them. i wonder why they make this choice; to not be a person within yourself. i mean i hate myself but it’s just the me that everyone sees. i know what i hold inside.

  • 1/18/25 2:14 AM

    tonight was weird. ya know that feeling when you had something not so great to eat and your unsatisfied so ur kinda hungry still but not really? that happened but not in a food way (fully).

    i went to this art show opening/reception. i almost didn’t make it there cuz i was berated with how awful i am and couldn’t stop crying and then my crying was used against me bc apparently that makes me “unfit” to go to an art show. the show was so bad lol. like unbelievably bad. like i got a glass of wine when we walked in and saw it all before i finished it, and it was a half pour.

    lets see, there was a photography exhibit with some photos of a hand holding a mango. a hand holding a cut passionfruit. a tree branch. oh and of course the fat twink with a dusty chode. but they put a filter and devil horns on him, so art.

    then there was these like pastel(?) images of like a worm snake thing wrapped around a fence and tree but the colorscheme was so dark and shadowy its like i needed the brightness turned up irl. then there was the last exhibit of these ginormous 3 canvas panels with like unfinished work lol. it seemed like the deadline came and the artist was like shit ok ill just send it how it is i guess. this made my decision on where to take art classes a lot easier ahahah! cuz if this is the best..i dont even wanna see what didn’t make the cut.

    the crowd was very odd too. like i think they didn’t know they could sit on the viewing couch thing in the center of one of the rooms. also just a lot of performative energy. me no like. very anti authentic. i cant put my finger on it exactly but i’m extremely good at reading people/situations/energy/etc.

    then, since that ended rather quickly, we decided to go out for food. but we went to like 5 places tn, the last 2 not for food. at least we know where not to go now lol. its v odd. this part of the country cant seem to get smores right, and i find it a bit peculiar cuz its just 3 ingredients and an open flame. very simple. there was a place a lot of us would go to after school, like a cafe type of place, that would literally sell tableside smores bc its so easy! i miss that place. they closed down long ago. (rip cosi). we’re now friends with one of the guys who was a partner. small world.

    i guess my mom is catching on, after years of me crying saying she only tells me what i do wrong, that i need to hear some good things about myself. cuz like my self esteem????? whats that! she told me one thing tn while drunk. it didn’t seem like much at all though. almost made me feel worse.

    i hate being told i need to do more when im literally trying my hardest. i’m always so close to breaking that one bad thing just sends me to tears. i cannot take anymore. so if my day starts with not even a hello, just being rained down on with insults, its really hard for me to bounce back.

    the other (catastrophic) night, i made my mom google what it means when someone says “i’m sorry you feel that way.” i hate that i have to teach her how to treat me like a human. she claims she didn’t know the real meaning behind that. since then i’ve been able to ask and actually recieve an apology. but i hate that i have to even ask for one. but its better than asking for one and it being “sorry your upset” though. also during this night i told my mom (during a high stakes fight, not fist fight) ive been suicidal since i was 12 years old. that’s more than half my life now. she gave me no response. then after begging for one she said you’ve told me that before. she stopped herself from saying more but i got it out of her eventually. she said, “that’s awful, no parent wants to hear that. i’m sorry youre so hurt.” this was probably the first time ever my mom acknowledged this defining fact about me. but today it was used against me, so was it really a win? idk. i don’t use that as a threat. i take the topic very seriously bc i fully understand wholeheartedly the ramifications of the act. but what does reality even matter when everything i say is wrong.

    i ate so much pasta and then drank bad wine and ate smores and i feel so full and pudge rn. but its quarter to 3 so i think it might be too late to do a workout.

    i really get scared that by the time i make it out to california, it’ll be too late for me. i fear nothing will ever work out bc at this point i cant tell you one thing that has.

    ugh i feel like i’ll probably be so embarassed and vomity rereading this tomorrow. naturally my fears come swarming in that i sound like an airhead bimbo with nothing to offer the world, no witty or original thoughts, just a lot of words saying nothing at all. (this would explain why nobody wants me around). i really hope i dont. i know there’s potential for some good in me. and maybe all these fears stem from never being understood. a dream i stopped wishing for. and also i really hope i dont sound like a complainer debby downer loser. i’m just voicing my perspective. this isn’t coming from a woe is me place. this is just what’s happening in my life rn. but i think the only people who know about this site are people who probably understand me more so than not.

    —

    something that’s really been haunting me is the guilt i feel knowing that there’s people out there locked in a basement somewhere being held captive and tortured. meanwhile i’m out here, free. theres so much awful in this world. so much pain. i really dont know how to live with it all. how am i supposed to ignore that? how have i been ignoring that? i mean i’ve been vegan for over 2 months now bc i dont want my pleasure to come from another’s suffering but there’s so much out of one’s control. i havent been in that circumstance, but i’ve felt like it could be near that. i cant even imagine how these people are managing. and like. no one cares. and i get that on one hand we can’t just demand to search everyone’s houses all the time cuz privacy and its not the majority of people by any means who are doing this. but there has to be some way. why doesn’t anyone care enough to figure it out? i learned in my law class last sem. that police do not need a search warrant if there is probable cause and the granting of a warrant would take too long. but i guess also the main point is that nobody knows its happening. maybe something would be done if people knew. but that’s hard to say bc people have known about things in my life but have turned a blind eye, and i was never held captive in a basement.

    it just literally kills me learning about/opening my eyes to so much of the suffering in this world. we talked about so many specific details about this in my philosophy class last sem. when i was already spiraling and it would literally make me cry in class and have to leave to go to the bathroom. or id just not show up. my suffering has broken me so many times/altered my life/debilitated me so much. i would absolutely never ever wish any of it on another soul. how do some people live in such a bubble that none of these things affect them? and like i know the media has multiple agendas, one being keeping people too informed of atrocities and paralyzed in fear. but there are some who do not care about how something so little as the can they throw out on the street, and how that affects something/someone else.

    idk. i just wish we could treat others with more kindness. but even that doesn’t do it justice. i can’t put it into words. i dont want these awful things to merely be a way to keep me grateful for what i have. i dont want these things to be happening at all. it makes me so sick and sad. i hope even just one sentence of this monologue made sense.

    [3:33 again.]

    well, thats enough from me tn. i wish peace to all. sorry if this was nuts or manic.

  • 1/17/25 3:33 PM

    hm. an angel number.

    i just woke up. not that surprising though. i fell asleep around 4 or 6 am once my body gave out and was forcing me to sleep lol. my mom has said that she thinks i should become a lady baker bc my internal clock, or lack there of, is perfect for that job. i’ve always loved baking so that doesn’t sound too bad at all.

    there’s been parts of my life where i’ve lived fully nocturnal. it feels really peaceful at first. you can feel that in the human world everything is closed, shut down, asleep, the lack of energy is quite loud. i also have done a lot of good writing during these hours. but then ill start missing out on important stuff. itll get really frustrating when i cant fix falling asleep at 4 am and waking at 4-5pm and ill feel like a total failure and loser. it feels like just one more basic thing everyone else in the world is capable of, that for some reason i cant do.

    i’ve always been a night person though. even as a kid i really liked the energy the night brought. i thought it felt like the time when everything was happening. back then i could barely stay up at all. in 6th grade i would always fall asleep around 11 pm. i remember this bc good eats would be on and i would see the first 30 seconds and pass out. maybe thats when a lot of my sleep issues started. i would sleep in really late out of desperation for not wanting to go to school. by 9th grade this whole pattern was slowly starting, not as severe as now, but i simply couldn’t fall asleep before 3 am.

    i wonder if there’s more people like me out there. it would be cool for there to be places open late for the other nocturnals lol. we could hang out under a bridge and follow all the frogs and turtles home. there could be a tea house, unmanned (i wouldn’t expect staffing like during normal hours), and we could make paintings with the slightly manic energy of the occasion. i guess for now i should just sign up for those art classes that i meant to sign up for 2 weeks ago, instead.

  • 1/17/25 2:03 AM – the intro

    this is my first post on here.
    i didn’t want tiktoks undecided fate to be a factor in my life, like whether or not i do something instead of scrolling depressed at 3 am.

    I made this site as a space for me, (like no duh). but more so bc i dont have anyone in my life who wants to hear what i have to say. so to cope with that i now have a place to do that. I’m hoping this will also motivate me to do the things i actually want to do with my life.

    i feel there is so much i could do, but haven’t been able to due to a numerous amount of circumstances, reasons, (a lot our of my control), and their effects on just my general wellbeing. if i cant function on a daily basis how can i do more? it all kills me honestly. for a very long time i mourned all the experiences, events, etc i was missing out on. i guess i’ve become so jaded now that i have no expectations of any of that anymore.

    but the expectations i have of myself somehow havent died. its probably the only thing that keeps my heart beating.

    i could have just started a journal but i’ve done that so many times. and never ever continued. ironically, one of the main things i want to do is to focus on my writing: stories, personal or any. at least now there will be some record of me. and i could look back on it in the future. but this is the space where i will pursue these “things” that keep me going.

    a lot of things have built up to this moment. and i guess the reoccurring theme in my life is that no one cares. this sentiment is practically etched into my skull, burned into my eyelids, and is frankly a reality. last night i had a dream that there was someone who wanted to hear what i had to say, and actually cared about me. a dream. i dont know if it sounds more pathetic or sad. and i guess i shouldnt worry too much about how i come across since this is literally for me. (but a little part of me hopes someone reads this. any of this.) ive noticed i dream about the things i am repressed from, or have horrible nightmares, or a combo of both. but that dream last night really spoke to me and how i’m truly feeling. and wont let me ignore it: there is not anyone in my life who cares.
    whats that saying about if you want something too much youll never get it? i worry this is the case. but i don’t like live out here all desperate and gross like PLEASE LOVE ME. im speaking from a place of genuity.

    genuity matters a lot to me. id rather be friendless than have people in my life just so im not alone. i chose to end my 2 friendships at the beginning of last semester. (a long time coming, ill tell ya that). now i have just one friend whos more of an acquaintance and we don’t speak much, especially since i haven’t come back from christmas break. i dont plan on it. i’m taking off from school until the thought of going back doesn’t send me into full psychosis. last semester was horrendous. i cant even talk about it still. with each semester things got worse, and then fall 2024 i broke. multiple times. and i warned so many people but it didn’t matter, they all turned a blind eye and were “shocked” and suddenly 2% worried. i still got good grades though, but my marketing professor failed everyone for the final project. i need to appeal it but i can’t even think about it without sobbing bc of how hard i worked for everything just for me to fall to pieces.

    i dont think i’m the same now. i dont know if ill ever go back to me from august. but even she was worried she would never be the same as me from 2023. and so on. but its really different now. the thought of a friend feels like a foreign concept. i battled daily abuse from my roomates. all their hatred for me coming to a head. what a joke it was for me to think we don’t have to be friends, just cordial roomates. but i’m not someone who would make fun of classmates for beating cancer or recovering from suicide. hindsight.

    maybe the only good thing that has come from this is my skilled ability to retreat inside myself. (i have been able to do that for a while, but it wavered. otherwise i would have done more long ago.) but all i can do is deal with now. and i am. i dont have to be likeable. (i never feared what others thought of me to begin with.) but now i have a new outlook. i’m just gonna try to do my thing, on my own.