It keeps getting worse, or rather, I do.

Despite unfortunately recognizing a fair portion of society as dysfunctional, especially all of it when “societal norms” and “common sense” are spread around to degrees that fail more than succeed (primarily because these phrases are inherently subjective in and of themselves leading to a ton of misuse and furthermore harmful concepts being perpetuated for far too long, but that’s a different thing), I’m no different and probably worse considering how I see the pitfalls and I walk right into them, replicating the mistakes of those who have come around literally decades and centuries and even longer than that beforehand, it’s fucking ridiculous, I don’t know why I’m like this or maybe I do considering how I’m the one piloting the body, but regardless, I fuck it all up. I’ve been fucking it all up for more than a decade now most likely, yeah, the vast majority of my life I’ve just been fucking up, continuously late to where those who would have appreciated my presence would have been, a lot of the time that including just not showing up at all, my conduct is notoriously (to myself) horrible and I’m fucking surprised of it despite being aware of the same mistakes for years on end, I fucking hate it, I know exactly why I’m lacking in all the departments which I am lacking in, it all being entirely self-inflicted, it’s impossible to deny I’d say.

I’ve had so many chances for instance to contact this guy I haven’t contacted in 5 to 6 years, I set a deadline to contact him yesterday and i did not, the person who was more of a father figure (amongst others) in comparison to my actual father figure, the one who, over time, their opinion mattered a bunch more in comparison to anyone else and in order to hear just a few more words from them each day, I would at the very least stick around after classes to put up the chairs every now and then. Although, obviously if they mattered that much maybe I should have put up the chairs more often as I remember it, but that’s besides the point. The elementary school and middle school years were not functional in terms of a home life in the slightest I’d remember, and that’d only change when I was in classes to say the least, primarily because at those times I was treated as how I should have been, seen for who I was and the work I put in, alongside my inadequacies and my potential failures in conduct and the things I somehow got “right” here and there, all that. These classes were the only things that made sense when the two people I am home with for literally all of this time, just, well, are known to me as making the worst of mistakes, and anything sensible was especially important when you realize that, early on, all of the bullshit is certainly the cause of all your suffering. I know it now at least, although it’s quite possible to say I knew it years beforehand.

I would “cry” if it wasn’t all self-inflicted fucking idiocy and lost presence of the mind, I can barely even fucking think, this is where the wrong choices gets you, the start never matters over the conduct of the person.

Regardless, I was taken care of quite well, I will say. I look back at those times with at least some degree of care, the afterschool periods showing the rare instance in which nothing really was immediately wrong in the moment, for all instances. I attended afterschool kind of things quite regularly back then because at the end of the day I’d say that the teachers were, well, actual caretakers who gave at least somewhat of a shit and helped immensely in terms of what they taught me through the ways they approached things outside of just assigned periods. Showing the process of grading papers in plain sight alongside giving us the responsibility, at the same time with continuous supervision, to act as we were supposed to, and if we didn’t we would fuck ourselves over pretty much. Not that much different from life, but still, when you said you were going to do something, you would be held to doing it at the rates you know are supposed to be the case, and that’s that. If you failed at those rates, that would be obvious, and my fuckups back then are still quite obvious specifically in the math classes where I couldn’t be bothered to give a shit at that time for some reason even though it would be easier to push through it instead of just sitting there and thinking that the problems will solve themselves, and later on that extended to the rest of the classes as well in which I would sleep in the majority of them until I no longer felt tired, and if I felt tired again I would sleep again, etc. I’d ought to say that my ways of “practical sleeping” and time management were experimental, to say the least. More like intentional misconduct though because I knew for a fact back then that sleeping only 5 hours would come back to bite me in the ass no matter what. Seriously, I don’t know how in the fuck I thought that catching any nap time during lunch alongside 5 hours of sleep per day in order to beat the system or some shit would be an option, I did it for so long that I must have known a few months in wouldn’t be functional but nah, I did it from 7th grade until the end of high school. For some fucking reason. I must have plummeted due to that shit alone, no wonder I’m this out of wack nowadays in so many things.

Shit, to put it into context, if I wasn’t sleeping more than 8 hours a day at the maximum for those 5 or more years alongside whatever other shit that just wouldn’t have been necessary, and just worked through the situation alongside getting to know the system and it’s faults instead of just thinking I could skip out on time or some shit like that without any prior planning, everything I did would have probably seen the efforts increased by two times if anything. If I actually gave a shit about whatever course of action I was trying to take and all. But I did not. And in that sense, that underlying apathy which makes no sense, since it cannot even necessarily distinguish itself from being more of an idiot in my case if the apathy does not have any proper reasoning for it’s existence, which, judging by the rigor used to come to whatever reasoning I had at the time, was not the case, confuses me even more. These weren’t simply the decisions of a mind which hadn’t fully grown yet if I knew that back then such decisions were ultimately detrimental and I knew how the hours added up and therefore affected anything I could output as a result. I mean, I think I knew before all of that shit that I was quite obviously failing myself and those around me, to whatever extent they may have mattered at each given point in time, but more specifically what I supposedly “cared” about. And I would be quite the liar to say that I cared about anything that much considering the mass disorganization and letting the days pass by amounting to stacked up worksheets in the bookbag in a section that existed for the sole purpose of probably sorting through later, considering my actions I’m not sure if I really even did care. At each moment in which I could have realistically been prepared, I did not have the preparation, whether it was due to the actions a day, a month or a year beforehand, it all adds up, I’m always acting at a slight handicap due to the decisions of the past. One not by circumstance, but by choice. That’s the stupidest shit to hear personally, and yet it’s also personally true. Fuck.

The times in which I knew a bunch of those math teachers have all been left flaming dumpster fires to say the least, all the shit is strained, even when it came to the ones that I slightly “got along” with despite my obvious misconduct, it’s a terrible thing to say the least. Not that they were entirely in the right all of the time because there were always mistakes in terms of how they handled some situations over others, but the point still stands that I wouldn’t know what the point of reaching out to any of them now would be. They saw how I fucked shit up, as a person and not simply test wise or some shit, and having those who are aware of your faults, despite the detriment that such a thing poses to them since of course it would be better to not have someone who’s messing up so much around yeah, is quite valuable, but I no longer have the luxury of random previously unaffiliated people telling me to my face exactly what my problems are despite me already being able to see such shit ahead of time most likely. They aren’t supposed to be therapists, but what most people miss the point of is that there probably shouldn’t be any therapists in the first place when it comes to my situation. What use is there in it? When you are dealing with yourself, you are by yourself, or at least that is usually the way in which it is most effective here. Not in other circumstances probably, I won’t speak for situations I do not know to the extent of my own, but having them come up with “solutions” for me only made me not confront the consequences and problems at hand. The situation was always kind of inherently make or break. At the very least, all the fuckups (of my own and not of others) are what I have, and where was I going with this again? No clue, shit. Either way, I have problems and must spend the rest of my life working on said problems, before I move on to more of my problems and more problems after that, etc. I don’t know, I fucking hate myself yadda yadda, think about bashing my head against a wall some of these times but that fixes nothing and only makes the “feelings” go away, bullshit, they don’t matter, the truth of the situation is still there, you already know how to deal with things in much more tangible aspects than what you consider the antithesis of what you “stand” for, fucking idiot. Go do them.