It feels like I’m the raincloud, just hovering over the world and making everybody miserable. Like my sadness and my mess is just leaking out of me infecting everyone around me. I go from just dumping everything to isolating and only one of those options seem ‘safe’. I gotta be so miserable to be around. But I’ve kinda sorta have done better, just trying to process everything by myself. But at the same time, I’m not. I don’t know. I seem to burden the least amount when I’m numb. Even if the few I consider close could scream until they’re blue in the face that they want me to talk to them, I’m still scared to and that probably just hurts them even more. How do I constantly keep putting myself in such a mess?
School started back up and I’m already severely overwhelmed. Missed one single day when my grandma passed and I fell hella behind real fast. I barely have my first project started. I’m gonna be fucked either way, and it’s not like I ever create anything ‘wow’ worthy. Never have. Doubt I ever will. I’m just tired of 4 hours of driving 4 days a week to a place I’m not even 100% sure I want to be solely due to being perceived. And fear of failure. I can’t drop anything because my scholarship won’t cover if I don’t have however many credits. I forget atm, only that I’ll have to start some online class later this semester because of it. I hate it. Being around talented people knowing I can barely push myself to do anything at all, and when I do, it’s so lackluster it would’ve been more dignified to just not do it. Nothing I’ve done has mattered. I don’t even have it in me to barely do anything anymore. I barely exist. Just floating and losing track of time and where I’m at or what I’m doing.
Things have been about as “normal” as it can be, since grandma passed. My family has a tendency to just… move on. I’m sure they’re all having their private moments just as I am, but still, I don’t have much of an excuse to be acting like this. I worry how grandpa’s taking it and the rest of my family are already at each other’s throats again. One of my cousins having had to move back here like… 4 days ago? and her and my dad got into it because I guess she told him that he and I both are leeches ripping off grandpa, once both grandparents. And other things. He doesn’t take care of my sisters accordingly, my disabled sister’s not attended to accordingly (she very damn well is) despite not really offering to help when she is down and acting like the kid’s a disease. But, maybe she’s not entirely wrong. Maybe I am a leech. Glad I didn’t have to listen to it tho, since I was in school. But still. But maybe she was just mad that I stay in the camper so she wouldn’t be able to live in here. Idk. Grandma had been described as the glue to our family to some degree, and in some ways I’d say that’s right. What’s awful is that I try to remember just… anything, about her, and I just can’t. My brain just fixates on her last years. I know we got into it occasionally. Nothing bad, but my youngest sister is the baby of the family and she defended that kid to hell and back. Fine. She thought what I wanted to go to college for was a bit weird, probably just found me difficult in general, but… I know she loved me. I think. I know she loved my sisters and her kids and other grandkids. I can’t believe I decided to go to sleep for 2 hours and she died when I was asleep. Other than that I had sat w the family watching her… yeah. It was bad. I hate thinking about it. There’s no point in thinking about it. She’s dead, and there’s nothing to be done about it. I don’t consider myself very religious, but my family is, and they just go on and on about how she’s ‘home’ and no longer suffering. Idk I feel like considering how god fearing she was, she suffered a lot. She was in a lot of pain. She was scared. I don’t find that too merciful, but I’m a bit cynical – I don’t mean to be rude to whoever does hold said beliefs.
It’s not like it matters, because people go about their lives despite things like that. I’m watching family do so in real time. People my age do so just fine. You’d think me being twenty one years old I would’ve gotten a grip by now, but I just don’t. I never have. I’m just looking at the world through a window I can’t break. I don’t belong. I feel like everyone else got a manual and I didn’t. Or maybe my dumbass lost it. I’m good at that. Fucking up. Being a weight people can’t shake off. I feel like a killjoy. I can converse minimally but not really. I keep forgetting to check in on those I need to check in on. I’m such a selfish asshole sometimes. Things are getting pretty bleak. I don’t think I can pull myself out of it this time. What’s worse is that I’m not even sure I want to. I don’t even care anymore. I just want to rejoin the rot from which I came from, wherever that is.