I learned recently that I have atychiphobia. At least I think I do. It makes sense. Although a part of me just thinks I’m lazy. And when it comes time to produce, I panic and get scared. My left side hurts. It’s like a throbbing pain. Oh well. I’m back home. University basically shut down so I had to leave. Oh well. Better than being in a dirty apartment. Also food. I haven’t heard anything from her in like two weeks. I text and call everyday. It probably comes off as desperate and pathetic. It is desperate and pathetic. I think I rationalize it by saying that I’m checking up on her and that I’m afraid for her. Really I’m just really sad and lonely. She said she felt sick last time I talked to her, so that’s where a lot of the paranoia comes from what with everything going on. It’s crazy to think that someone in your life can just up and die and you would have no real way of knowing. I think she’s fine. I hope she’s fine. I have an essay due on Friday. Haven’t started. Haven’t even read my articles I picked out for it. I’m just procrastinating. Sometimes I go back and read old posts I write. To try and remember where I was at when I wrote those things. Sometimes they come off as cringy and sad. Other times it’s just nonsense. I feel like sleeping and not waking up. I feel like that a lot. I don’t know. Just writing down these little rambling nothings down.
I need to learn to control my impulse. I used to just shove it down and run away. I’m sure it was out of fear more than anything. It’s been about two days. I check just to see and that’s all. I spend my time thinking and analyzing and worrying and calculating. But that get’s thrown out the window when I have an impulse. I have very little selfcontrol. I find myself at a standstill. I ran and that didn’t work and I gave into my impulse and that didn’t work. A tiny part of me wonders if things would have turned out differently if I kept running. Would it all be a hazy dream by now. A small part of me resents when I was put back to square one. And a large part of me hates that resentment. I’m waiting now. To see where the chips fall. Hopefully my impulses stay in check long enough to see.
I think I’ll start posting consistently again for a bit. I just feel like everything is leaking out, so I might as well vomit it into this cesspit. It’s kind of sad. Coming here for sympathy when most of the people here are in abusive relationships, addicts, cutters, etc. My problems are relatively small compared to all that. Anyways, I’ve always have my headphones on. Not the small ones that go into your ear. I’m talking about the big over-ear ones. With big squishy cups for the ears. I just feel comfortable with them on. Not even when I’m listening to anything. Right now I’m completely alone in my apartment and have no reason to have them on, but I just feel at ease with them on. I do this when I’m at school. I do this at home. I do this when I’m trying to fall asleep. I just feel comfortable with them on. I don’t know why. It just feels nice. I’m trying to keep myself occupied. I’m trying not to think about it. I just need to refocus. All these little problems. They always seem so small. And so big. Spring break got extended a week and now all my classes are online for the rest of the semester. Wonder how that will work. I think I’m going back home again. I was there just a few days ago, but being alone in this apartment seems somehow more miserable. Yet I still feel it when I’m at home too. I don’t think I can be satisfied regardless of where I am. At least at home I’ll be away from this disgusting apartment. The tub isn’t filled with gross dirt at the bottom and the floor boards aren’t caked with dirt and grime. I try to occupy my mind, but I still don’t know how it’s going to go. Either way, I don’t know what I’m doing. BTW watch Beastars on Netflix. It’s really good, if you like that cheesy drama crap. I feel bad for the Wolf Kid. Just wants to be left alone, but people keep giving him shit. He also doesn’t know how to compartmentalize his feelings and doesn’t know how to process his romantic emotions. Reading the manga now. Hope life gets better for him. It has to get better for someone.
I have no idea how to do this. I have no friends. I have no one to talk to. The one person I try to go to has a hard time with consistent communication. It’s not her fault. Her problems are much bigger than mine. She might be reading this. Hard to say. I’m probably making too much of a big deal. Either way, I have no idea how to process my thoughts. I have no idea how to properly analyze them. I have no idea how to simply be ok with myself. I have no idea how to improve. So if I can’t stay still and I can’t move forward, where do I go? How do I stop?
I have no friends to talk to about this, so I might as well post here. Sometimes I browse r/relationships out of curiosity, and everytime it renews my fear of people. It’s constantly filled with people who have no idea how to deal with their relationships and their own mental health and the health of their partner. It makes me realize that nobody has no real idea of what they are doing and that you really can’t tell what’s going on in people’s heads. People are these bizarre unpredictable creatures that act out of impulse 50% of the time and overthink things the other 50%. Shit terrifies me. Reminds me that I have no chance in a relationship.
I feel like it’s all in my head. All of it. Like the stuff that I was certain of seems like it wasn’t really real. Like it was all a delusion. I guess I’m pretty delusional. I’m still here though. Don’t know why. Just am.
I have a problem. I think I refuse to learn. I think I keep doing it and keep getting disappointed and then keep doing it and then keep getting disapointed. I refuse to stop. I don’t know why. I should know better now. I don’t want to blame them. I know it’s hard. I keep calling but I know I shouldn’t. It’s pretty pathetic. Why sm I even here. No one is listening. It’s a void where nothing exists. Yet I keep coming back here. Because I never learn.
GI JOE. Yeah it’s a pun. I don’t know why I felt like starting it that way. I’m still talking to her. At least I’m trying to. I know I said I have to accept that she doesn’t want to hear from me last post, but I’m really stubborn. I can’t really get that concept through my head. She was just in a bad place. Actually when I don’t hear from her from long periods of time she’s in a bad place. I know she’s trying her best. She has her problems. I don’t want to get into it because it’s not my place. But she has health issues that make it so she shuts people out. I don’t think she’s misleading me. Sometimes I don’t think that. Other times I think she’s too nice to hurt my feelings and really just wants me to stop talking to her. She can’t say it to my face. Or text that. We are a country apart. I haven’t seen her physically for almost 3 years. I keep asking if we can meet up when we are both back home at the same time. She keeps saying yes, but things keep happening. When she’s there, I’m not. When I’m there, she’s not. It’s been a week and a half since I’ve heard from her. It’s not that long in retrospect, but I think I have an issue with being clingy. I’ve apologized for that, but she says I’m not being clingy. Again it’s hard to tell if she’s telling the truth. I feel bad for doubting her. I know I keep telling her I’ll always be there for her and that I know things are hard for her. But when I just stop hearing from her from all of a sudden for weeks at a time, it gets hard. Yet I’m stubborn. I keep trying to text and call. I keep thinking about her. I keep hoping and begging the world that she responds and I hear her voice again. I’ve decided to tell her about my feelings. I keep telling myself that I should just stop overthinking it and just do it. But I want to do it to her face. I want to look her in the eye and say it. I don’t want to do it through text or phone call. I don’t want to give myself the option of running away. I want to stand my ground and say it. And I want to hear with my own ears and see with my own eyes when she says she doesn’t feel the same. I just hope me telling her doesn’t make things harder for her and that we end up not being friends anymore.
I think I just have to accept that she doesn’t want to talk to me. I think I have to accept that she just doesn’t want anything to do with me. As much as I try and reach out, I think I’m only making things worse. I just have to accept it. I don’t know how, but I just have to. On the extremely small chance you’re reading this, I’m sorry. Sorry if I screwed up.
I have no idea what is proper social etiquette. I have no idea how to have meaningful interpersonal relationships. I have no idea why I want to have relationships with people. I have no idea how to properly control myself when it comes to trying to be friends with someone. I have no idea how to properly communicate what is in my head. I have no idea why I’m tearing up right now. I have no idea why I haven’t been able to cry for the past few weeks, except now. I do know somethings though. I know that just keeping quiet hasn’t done anything for me. I know that everything I do is out of fear. I know I am afraid that I will amount to nothing. I know this fear drives me to keep going on with my studies even though I have no true motivation or passion for my field. I know that I am terrified of being alone. I know that this is what drives me to try so hard and be friends with her. I know that talking to her and properly expressing what’s in my head won’t really fix anything. I know that I’m scared. I know that everyone my age has had at least some experience with everything I have never had experience with. I know that I’m likely to die alone. I know that I’m likely to keep trying and trying and failing and failing. I know that no matter how hard I try, how hopelessly, desperately hard I try, I will never be truly happy. This is what I know and what I don’t know.
There is an inconsistency between what’s in my head and what’s actually there. I believe the root of my sadness comes from the realization that there is this disconnect between the two and that I don’t know how to cope with it. I believe my primary motivation drives me to these nonsense delusions. The fear of not amounting to anything and the fear of being alone. I’m so wrapped up in the little idiosyncrasies within my head that I don’t really see what’s there and when it finally becomes apparent to me, I can’t help but feel let down. The thing is, can’t really be anyone’s fault but mine. These little delusions of mine are the only thing that keeps me going. Yet they aren’t real. And when I realize that, it pulls me down. I think that I should just go to sleep and not wake up. At least I think so.
I feel so tired. I have little desire to get up in the morning. I have little want to go to campus. I have little desire to do anything. I used to enjoy weekends. Free time was nice. Now all I do is lay in bed. I do nothing. I feel nothing. I’m so alone. So bitterly alone. It hurts. I don’t know what I want. I feel like my luck has run out. There is a cathartic feeling to it. I’ve always been waiting for it to happen, and when it does, it feels like a pressure buildup being released. Like a mask being shattered. Like I can breathe. At the same time however, it feels painful. Like a getting a ruined package in the mail you were waiting for. A sense of disappointment. I’m rather tired. I don’t really like it. I think I’ll go to sleep.
I think I’m falling apart. No matter how hard I try to hold it together, I can feel it slipping. Little by little. I go through these stages when this sort of thing happens. Frustration. Bouts of energy to try and make things right. Sadness. Emptiness. Disinterest. A feeling of being lost. Like I’m a husk walking. I start pacing everywhere. I can’t seem to sit still. Nothing really holds my attention. Focusing on one thing is difficult. Things I use to enjoy start to seem unappealing. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. My future. My abilities to get things done. The overarching point of it all. But most of all I think of her. I think of how it’s been more than 2 years since I’ve seen her. I think about how much pain she is in. I think about how I’d like to help her. I think about how, in the back of my mind, the reason I do this is probably some selfish rationalization. That I believe if I get close enough to her, something might happen. I feel despicable. Part of me believes that I want to do it to help her, but another part of me knows better. It thinks that maybe there is a chance that I could be with her. That maybe one day she will feel the same way I feel about her. She is in so much pain, and that’s what I am thinking about. Not about her, but about myself. I’m a horrible person. Here’s the thing. She might even be reading this. She might see this and feel pity for me. In the back of my head, I can’t help but wonder if that’s what I’m trying to do. To make her feel pity for me, so she might feel something for me. Like a disturbing tactic or manipulation. I’m a fucking scumbag. I’m a miserable piece of shit that should just put a damn gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. I can never tell what my motivations are. Like how you are doing something, and you are not even fully aware of why you are doing it. Like you have hidden motives, so hidden you don’t even really know them. She will probably never see this. She has her own problems to worry about. Problems that are a million times bigger than mine. She told me that she’s lost weight recently. She was so tiny the last time I saw her, so her getting smaller makes me sad. She must be in so much pain, and here I am complaining about my own problems. She’s so nice and beautiful and loving. And I’m a horrible piece of shit. I can’t help her. I can’t make her feel better. I can’t solve her problems. If you are reading this, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry that I couldn’t help. I’m sorry that there was nothing I could do. I’m sorry that all I ever do is do these meaningless check ups like they help or something. I don’t know why I needed to get this out. I just did.
Don’t know why I’m back here. Couldn’t tell you. Haven’t used this place in a long ass time. Haven’t even looked at this place in a long time. I know I will find no satisfaction from coming back. I probably won’t be using this place consistently. I remember I’d come here to vent and check to see if I get any sympathetic comments or advice. It took me a while that it makes no real sense to try to look for sympathy from people who hate themselves as much or more than I hate myself. It’s just kind of an echo chamber full of misery and sadness. Just a place for people to come and cry and try to squeeze out all the bad feelings they can because they don’t know where else to put it. At one point, you kind of just get tired of it. When I haven’t cried for a while, sometimes I’ll look through my old posts to try and put myself back in that headspace and remember the exact emotions I had when I wrote them. It’s kind of like watching a really sad, small kid just curl up and break down, and there’s nothing you can really do about it. You kind of just watch him cry and sit there. I’m not interested in killing myself. It’s not that I detest the idea, I just have no interest in it. Thinking about myself committing suicide makes me feel nothing. It’s just a thought and then it passes. And they aren’t even frequent. Hell, it’s hard to say I even have them anymore. I still feel like a failure though. In pretty much every aspect. But I kind of just accept it. It’s like “Yeah, that’s what that is.” So I just felt like posting. Here it is. Take what you from this.
It’s nostalgic being back here. I haven’t posted since November, but haven’t seriously needed this place for a little over a year. I’ve managed on my own for a while. I still don’t really need this place. Just felt like coming back. It’s so strange. This place isn’t for finding people, but I still can’t help but look for the usual suspects in my time here, except they usual move on by now. That’s the thing that’s messed up. You never know if they learn to deal with their problems or if they make the leap. You just don’t know. Things have been going ok for me. Got an internship this summer. Half way done with college. Haven’t really studied for finals and don’t really feel like it either. Probably because I’m off my meds so I don’t have any motivation. I’m fucked, but I’m ok with it. It’s such a strange feeling. I don’t know if I want to do this for the rest of my life, but I don’t know if I want to do anything else. It be what it be. I just got to learn to live with my decisions or lack thereof. So what’s up with you guys?
A part of me wants to explore it and another part wants to cross that bridge when I get there. I think I am bi. I know I love girls. All types of girls. I just don’t know how I feel about guys. On the one hand, understanding that part of me will get rid of some baggage I might have. Having depression on top of questioning my sexuality seems like a pain in the ass. So if I just figure it out, no more questions. On the other hand, it’s not like I’m getting laid or going on dates either way. Nobody is looking at me, be it a guy or girl. So what does it matter when I ain’t getting some anyways. However, if later on down the road, I met a guy and the only thing stopping me is the fact that I haven’t fully accepted myself, then fuck. Like I said, cross that bridge when and IF i get there. Maybe it’s all bullshit and I’m just really horny all the time, so those feelings get misplaced. I don’t know. Whatever. The only reason I’m posting this here is because it’s a dumping ground for all of my other bullshit. Might as well add on to the pile.
The world is extremely big and extremely scary. I often find myself wondering if I fit at all in it. You look at yourself and you wonder how it got as bad as it did. You kind of know the answer already, but it still happens. It keeps turning and turning and you have to think to yourself that maybe this wasn’t the best it could have been. You look at the results and you say. Wow. Ok. The thing is, maybe you don’t deserve it. Maybe it is what it is and you just have to say “yeah ok”. I think that the worst scenario really is if you keep going. You just have to fold and say yeah, this wasn’t for me. I think the worst thing about all this is how they pinned their hope on you. How you thought for a second that maybe you could do this and make everyone proud. That’s the thing though. You could. You just chose not to. It’s strange in retrospect. You had the cards and you have the means and you had the time, you just chose not to use any of them. You chose to hide and close your ears and say no no no no no no no no no no no. This really is for the best when you think about it. You don’t deserve anything else than what you got. Maybe not even that. Maybe the best thing to do is to tell them and say yeah. I’m a fuck up. I didn’t make it. Yeah I guess.
I think that I have to accept that I’m just mediocre. When you think about it being mediocre really isn’t the worst thing in the world. Actually it’s really common to be mediocre. It’s the definition. I breezed through high school if you think about it. Any perceived trouble I had was really nothing to sneeze over. University is like a kick to the jaw. And even then it isn’t that bad compared to the more advanced stuff. And that is absolutely nothing to the real world. I’m mediocre and that is that. Why am I upset though? Why do I feel like shit when I think of how little I am? How much of a nothing I am? Why do I resort to shutting down instead of actually working? Instead of trying to actually be something? I think I should just be fine with what I am. We will see.
Here it is. The burnout. Again. When all motivation is gone. All of it. I just want to lie down and do nothing. I think I’m just lazy. Probably just that. It reminds me of November Has Come from Demon Days. It just feels like everything is dying around. Kind of appropriate for fall if you think about it. Everything freezes up and dies. Even me. That was lame. Typing that made me feel retarded and mellow dramatic. Even though there is a bit of truth to it. I just shut down. Whatever. I am genuinely curious when it will run out. When I just hit a wall I can’t get past. Admittedly I’ve felt that I’ve hit it before, but I always manage to squeak by. However, that can’t be the case. My luck has to run out eventually. Somehow.
Back here. Back here. Back. Here. B-A-C-K. H-E-R-E. I haven’t needed this place as much. I mean not really. But once in a while, you have to do the routine dump. I think a part of the reason I don’t use this place anymore is because I kind of figured out what this place is really for. At first I thought this is a place where you can try and cope and find advice for your problems and potentially find like minded people to give you comfort from time to time. That’s not what this place is. It’s a hole. It’s a hole where people go to just chuck their problems down. Misery gets tossed down here and it festers. It’s not a place to find a way to fix yourself or find a way to cope or even find some small tiny little piece of comfort. It’s a hole. And I get it. It was stupid of me to think otherwise. The mere act of just dumping your problems down a hole is that it feels good. For the moment. It’s really just a way to run from your problems, even if it is a fraction of a second. The thing is they are still there. They are not going to go away. No matter how many times you post or try to “empty” your mind down here, it doesn’t mean the problem is solved. It just means you tried to run away. And I get it. There is value for just running sometimes. It “helps”. Now I kind of just stay away for a bit until I need the hole again. The routine dump. I was on a tangent but now let’s get started. By the by, let this be a warning for newbies. If you really want to feel better try meds, therapy, something else. If you want to be miserable, then come back here every day. If you just want to get by, every now and again is good. I finally got it. The one thing I dreamed of after so long (A year). My own apartment. I saw it coming though. I knew what was going to happen the minute I got it. The loneliness set it. At home, I had my parents and my brother. They weren’t much, but I had something. Some sort of contact with people. In here, it’s empty. Nothingness. It has it’s perks. I love being naked, now no one can tell me not to be. Long as I have the shades drawn, which is all the time. No one telling me not be messy or taking up the shower. No annoying room mates bringing their retarded friends around so they can not talk to each other and stare at their phones. Just me. Me. Myself. I. Solo. That’s the thing though. I like it. I hate it. I want to be on my own. I hate being alone. I’m better off by myself. I’m so damn lonely. No friends no family no nothing. Just me. Let’s start with friends. How do you get them? How do you talk to people? How do you not spend your nights and weekends in your apartment brain dead wishing for something to happen. I look around me and I see people smiling and happy and talking. I also see people just getting by, not saying a thing and just having a blank expression on their face. I see people who laugh and talk and do stuff. And I see people who go and do what they need to do and get out. I get it. I know. If I really had to pin point it though, I’d say it’s my fault. I just don’t put in any effort. I’d be lying if I said I’ve never been asked to hang out or asked to play a game or something. I’d be lying if I said people didn’t try before. I can also say it doesn’t happen that often. But I can’t say that it’s never happened. I get it. Now let’s move on to romantic relationships. Something I’ve talked about on numerous occasions. Something that for the life of me I can’t seem to not care about. I want so badly to not give a fuck about it. I want so badly to think to myself Who Gives A Shit. I want so badly to be ok with just being on my own like always. Yet it always creeps up. I can’t be sure anymore if I want love out of desperation or because of true feelings anymore. It just seems like I have this impression of needing it but not knowing the cause. There was this girl I used to work with. At first I said we should meet up for a chat. Just to see how things were going. I wanted to give it another shot at just trying to make friends. She was (is?) in a relationship, so no tension or anything like that. Just friends. She was nice. Told me I could go and talk to her whenever, just to catch up. Said cool. I thought that if I kept it up I can actually maintain a friendship. Actually have someone I could talk to about stuff. It never really worked out. I’d always ask to hang out, she’d always be busy. Maybe she got the impression that I was trying to flirt with her. Maybe I was? I can’t even tell my own motivations anymore. Why do I keep trying to talk to this person? Why do I bother wanting to see her? Why is it that I do what I do? Said fuck it and gave up. If she needs me she needs me. If she doesn’t she doesn’t. She’s got people she talks to regularly, so why would she need me. She has enough friends. What make’s me so special? Nothing. I’m probably making a bigger deal out of it than it really is. Maybe she really isn’t trying to avoid me and it always just slipped her mind. The thing is, am I really that unimportant that you just forget. Am I really that much of a nobody. I guess. Who cares. Trying to figure out relationships like that is made even more difficult as I question my sexuality. I like girls. That is not doubt. Do I like dudes? Can’t seem to figure it out. Now I have this shit to contend with as well as my crippling loneliness. wonderful. There is more I’d like to right, but I think I emptied my head out sufficiently.