i hate being relatably miserable.
i have no phone service, and no money. i can’t text anyone or reach out to anyone anywhere but here, pretty much. i’m really really tired and really really ready to just stop trying to even function or care or express anything. i’m just so tired.
i am so depressed that the normal basic skills that would be there to think around this stuff are just, gone.
i feel helpless and i probably shouldn’t but i’m just really really out of energy and optimism and hope. i never felt like i was worth my own effort to begin with.
sometimes i would rather not exist
how can i spend time at a really awesome cool thing and still end my day feeling empty and like the world is a cold dark hopeless place
my mind is so broken.
it actually feels great to say it. that i’m irreparably flawed/broken. because before when i said it i felt guilty. but now you’re not going to read this.
i think a lot of times (not all, for sure, but a solid amount) you thought i was talking to you or directing stuff at you when a lot of it was just, the same performance of despair i’ve been doing whenever i get stressed or overwhelmed or miserable for years now.
this is what i do. i am miserable loudly on the internet. it has been my only method of coping that doesn’t directly damage others. or it didn’t used to, and that’s the thing. i had this, and it, the ability to vent here and get my thoughts out here has literally saved my life, multiple times. but then it stopped being a place where the thoughts could go without damaging anything. i think i really really needed a place like that.
I’ve tried keeping diaries and having personal blogs and it doesn’t work the same, i only exist when seen. something about knowing other people are reading forces me to look at my own thoughts objectively. it gets me out of my head, just a little, when nothing else does.
yes. my hyper-awareness of an audience has the invaluable side effect of making me look at my thoughts and feelings and self with a critical eye. which leads directly to sanity, with me. it does. it can. it has always, before.
i’m such an idiot for not seeing it sooner. i could’ve fixed it if i had seen outside of myself, and outside of how nostalgia-sad it made me to think of not being seen. because i already felt attention-starved, and just, ughhh. file under ‘things i will always feel soul-crushing regret over’
it’s truueeeeeee though
i am irreparably flawed
not just normal human flawed I know we’re ALL flawed
i don’t think i’m “special” (it totally sounds like i do though, i know, i hear it)
i just manage to do so much damage to my own life and the lives of others, repeatedly, when i don’t try to and i in fact know what i’m capable of and am desperate to avoid it and yet EVERY FUCKING TIME i ruin the things that are important to me
and i don’t see most other people destroying their own lives on a regular basis, you know? everyone has flaws and problems because the world is an imperfect place, but i am my biggest problem
my other problems aren’t very world ending, they’re just sucky things
i am the massive life-destroying hopelessness-creating problem
i have a sneaking suspicion i won’t want to celebrate my birthday this year
i made this post weeks ago and saved it in my drafts and probably i’m just a self-fulfilling prophecy but, damn