An Arriving Departure @dimayalicious - Tumblr Blog

Hm.

Greetings.

Happy Tuesday, friends.

I hope you all had an excellent Mother’s Day weekend and properly showed your love if possible. You wouldn’t be here without them.

On to the post.

We’re interviewing people this week. Interns, specifically. Which, as you can kinda guess, is a little weird for me. We’ve been interviewing a bunch of different intern positions for our team here, trying to get a Graphic Design Intern, a Marketing Intern, a Digital Content Intern, etc. etc. However, we aren’t looking for a Web Development Intern. Which… I’m not sure how to feel about? I guess the way I should try to look at it is: I’m doing such a splendid job that we don’t need no intern, son. But that’s probably not the case, I’m just trying to keep myself happy and motivated by saying that. In fact, I kind of know why we aren’t. In a meeting a couple weeks ago when we were discussing who to find interns for, I threw out the fact that it would take 3-4 weeks MINIMUM to get a Web Dev Intern’s environment set up, get them acquainted with our five different websites that I’m maintaining and adding new content and promos to, and get them familiar to how we handle different parts of each website. So if we only have the intern for two to two and a half months for summer, anywhere from 4-6 of those weeks would just be trying to get the intern started. So it would be kind of a waste for both the company and for the intern’s experience. It would also be difficult to find an intern who has experience in HTML5, CSS3, XML, Java, JavaScript, jQuery, and ASP. That’s a lot of languages to expect out of a second to fourth year in college. Sure, they might know each language, but know how to use them to work on all ends of a website, from server-side stuff, to database stuff, to front-end stuff, to connecting the code to the AEM content manager, that’s a lot more difficult. Wow that’s the first time I’ve ever written out a quick list of everything I work on/code in. That’s a lot of stuff. I do a lot of stuff. I wish the people we interviewed for full-time Web Developer position didn’t all suck ass. It would be nice to have some help. Bruh we deadass had this guy come in, and we asked him for a portfolio, and he was like “Oh yeah go ahead and sign onto my personal website, that’s my portfolio,” and we opened it and I don’t even know how to explain how horrendous it looked. It looked like something a 6th grader would make during their 30 minute computer time instead of playing Microsoft Pinball. It had almost every color on the color wheel somewhere on the main page of the site, it actually hurt to look at. These are the kind of people we interviewed. One person we interviewed, I asked him “What’s responsive web design?” because I was asked it during my interview, realized how simple of a question it should be to anyone serious about web development and web design, but also realized that it’s not something everyone would know, but it’s definitely something every web dev or web designer should know with the technology we have these days. And this headass said “that means…. Your website… responds… when a user clicks on things…?????” and my boss and I just kinda glanced at each other like “the fuck did this man just say? That’s gonna be a no from me, dog.” - Randy Jackson. I dunno man. We’re gonna have to keep looking for someone who can help me out. The previous search did not go well. BUT ANYWAY. I’M OFF TOPIC.

Right, it’s been an interesting process for me because they’re my age. They’re just a couple years younger than me, in the middle or towards the end of their college years. I can tell as my boss is walking them into the room (he goes downstairs to grab them from the lobby and bring them into his office for the interview upstairs where we are) that they’re super nervous, and then they’ll enter the room, look at the four of us, see me, realize that I’m their age, and their shoulders fall to a more comfortable level, there’s that little reaction of relief like “woah, someone my age.” I think it makes people feel more comfortable because it gives them that feeling like they’ll fit in more if they get the position, and there are people who can relate to their generation. If I had someone my age in my interview, I definitely would have felt less tense. But alas, I am the only one under the age of 35 in the entirety of sales and marketing lul. But anyway, I could really tell that I made them feel a lot more comfortable. Like when my team would laugh about something, the person we were interviewing would kinda glance at me first to see if I was laughing, kinda like a “hey is this like a joke or situation that only the older, higher-ups are laughing at” but then they’ll see that I’m giggling too and then they’ll join in. It felt good, actually. It feels nice to actually interact with people my age again. And I really look forward to when summer comes and the intern(s) we choose start their temp position in… wow in like a month/month and a half. I can’t believe in a month, another school year will be over. The end of this school year means the end of me visiting slo. What a crazy thing. That’s a topic for another day though, I’m getting distracted by my thoughts. I think it’ll be a nice change of pace having someone not too much younger than me working at a desk right next to me (we already decided on how we’d move desks around, at least one of their desks is right next to mine.) It’ll be cool. I’ll finally have someone that I can make jokes towards and tease while getting work done, kinda like back in college. It’ll be fun I think. But man, since they’re mostly marketing positions, they’re all girls LMAO I was lowkey hoping I’d get some dude that I can talk to about fortnite all day LOOOOL. But that ain’t gonna happen. Smh. We did interview ONE DUDE. One out of the seven is a dude. He was applying for graphic design intern. And he was an immediate no. LOL. It was this tiny little white kid, a second year in college, and we asked for his portfolio, and I SHIT YOU NOT. DEADASS. I AM NOT LYING. IT WAS ALL WAIFUS. LMFAOOOOOOOOO. This mans brought in a portfolio of anime that he’s drawn, 90% of which were anime women (I actually recognized some of them LOL), to a fucking interview for a machining company. I fuckin died. He was this tiny, quiet white kid, too. I did not expect it at all. And he seemed super introverted. We decided we’d need him to have already come out of his shell before we’d hire someone like him for an internship. I think it’s because he goes to Cal Lu, and he lives in TO. Those are like 10 mins away from each other, so we’re pretty sure he lives at home instead of fully experiencing the college life, which explains his extreme introversion and awkward social ability. We’re a very communication-based creative team here in digital marketing, so we definitely need someone who’s down to really talk, interject their opinion, speak up, etc. He wasn’t gonna do that.

The rest of them so far have all been… alright? Some way better than others. We’ve interviewed four girls and there are two more left, and I’d say, one of them was a definite no, two were alright, one was like “i’d probably give her an offer right now”, and the other two we will find out in the upcoming weeks. The one that was a definite no, she applied for marketing intern, but her major was journalism, and it just felt kinda weird. Her answers were very geared towards journalism rather than marketing. I feel like she just blanket-applied, where you basically just submit your resume to a shitton of companies for any position you might fit. So that was a no. The ones that were alright, there was nothing spectacular about them, but they weren’t bad. One of them spent a year in dubai doing “hospitality work” according to her resume. We forgot to ask her about that, we were all very intrigued what the actual fuck that meant LMAO. As soon as she left we all looked at each other, and we were like “WAIT SHIT WE FORGOT DUBAI.” LOL. The one that was a total yes had tons of marketing experience, she was super cool. She showed us a portfolio of pamphlets she had made in high school for Student Body stuff, and some for her church, and she explained that on campus she runs the campus Snapchat, just hosting a Snapchat story of random stuff throughout the day, which is actually great and what we’re looking for right now because our most recent focus has been what we’re calling “Digital Presence,” where we basically put forth a bunch of work towards the Haas Automation YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, etc. And one thing we’ve always talked about doing is having a Snapchat for stories of stuff on the factory floor, give people an inside look at the largest CNC Machining factory in North America. So we are definitely highly considering this girl. Bruh it’s so weird, her name is Tinathy. Like… Timothy, but for a girl. And it’s not pronounced Tina-thee, it’s actually said the exact same way as Timothy, but with an N instead of an M. It was really weird saying her name. What a unique name.

Hi again.

Sorry for posting so often recently. A lot has been happening. And I know I double posted yesterday; I don’t usually post later at night but I had to because of the text. Once again, who am I saying sorry to? I don’t know. But saying sorry is what I do. I’m really good at over-apologizing. So I’m sorry about that. Anyway, post time.

I really want to post about other things. I really want to talk about topics that don’t have to do with her, with the past couple of days, with anything about it. But I can’t. I can’t get away from it that quickly. It’s not mentally possible for me. I will be thinking about this and writing about it for a while probably. Which I’m terribly sorry about, you can probably stop reading my posts for the next week or two and then come back and continue reading my posts and I’ll hopefully be back to talking about other topics by then. But trust me, with a mental problem like mine, she will be scattered amongst my posts incredibly often, so I apologize if you get tired of hearing about her even though we aren’t supposed to exist to each other from this point on. At least that’s how I see it. Her text ended with basically a final farewell. One of those last goodbye type things. Goodbye forever. I will never get to speak another word to this person whom I admire and adore. She hit me with the “I wish you the best.” It’s like what people say at the end of a romcom that doesn’t end with the main characters getting together. But the only difference is that at the end of those kinds of romcoms, you’re kind of happy with the ending, both characters are settled and happy with splitting off from each other and have kind of already moved on because their life is set up. For me it’s just sadness lol. I’m not settled and happy and ready to completely remove her from my thoughts and pretend she doesn’t exist. Imagine knowing someone who proves themselves to be a great friend time and time again and proves themselves to be hilarious, fun to be around, fun to talk to, similar interests so not only fun to talk to, but easy to talk to, similar hobbies so hanging out is easy, imagine all that in one person, and you know who they are, and have the ability to contact them, but then you’re just not allowed to. Even in a completely platonic manner, you’re not allowed to. Imagine how devastating that is. So close yet so far type shit.

I’m too exhausted to handle anymore, man. But my stupid idiot fucking severe anxiety lookin ass brain mind piece of shit refuses to let me stop thinking for even a moment. Even in my dreams. My dreams are reminding me of what’s happening, as if I’m not allowed to have a break. I’m not allowed to stop thinking about what’s happening. I wonder if dreams are more vivid with anxiety because your mind just thinks so hard. Last night, after receiving that text, I literally cried myself to sleep, like just laid in bed and cried until I fell asleep, and I kept having this dream, over and over, walking down a sidewalk along some bridge in some foreign country, I feel like it was Australia for some reason, you know how in dreams you kind of just feel where you are even though nothing says where you are? Anyway walking down a sidewalk along a bridge on this big body of water, and my ex is walking my direction and I notice her, she’s wearing a plain white t-shirt, it looks kinda like a men’s undershirt? Idk. But it’s just a plain white t-shirt, and she’s wearing dark blue jeans, and some white sneakers, kinda looked like converse? Or maybe adidas? Idk. But she’s walking my direction, I notice her, she notices me, while we’re like 30 feet away from each other, kinda far, and we both realize who the other is, and we just look away and keep walking. And this dream just kept repeating. And repeating. And every time I passed by her I wanted more and more to say hi. To stop her from continuing to walk and to just speak to her. I begged my brain to let me say hi. But I just kept walking. She just kept walking. Mental-disorder-level anxiety is torture. I want to go back to moderate anxiety. I don’t like severe anxiety. I understand why medication abuse is such a common thing when it comes to mental illnesses. These mental illnesses change the way you think, the way you function, the way you interact with others, the way you dream. It changes everything. I don’t think medical professionals should consider moderate anxiety as a mental illness. But severe anxiety? This shit is fucking nuts. In a bad way. I’m struggling. No wonder so many people with mental problems resort to drugs and medication. It’s so overwhelming. Anxiety, depression, etc. And I’ve been reading up on it recently and apparently there are record numbers of teens and college students facing mental illnesses, mostly anxiety and depression.

But why me? Why was I chosen to be the one who gets royally fucked, so royally fucked that I royally fuck up my own life and future. I didn’t ask for this. Everything could be so perfect in my life right now. Everything could be literally what I dreamed of and wished for before. But instead I’m living a nightmare. Even in my dreams, the nightmare continues. Everywhere I look, everywhere I go, everything I hear. Something is a trigger that gets my mind racing about something. My dad has been going through a Coldplay phase the past few months and I can’t tell him to please change the playlist because Coldplay is a heavy trigger for me. I created an 80s playlist on spotify a couple months ago, and every time Come On Eileen comes on, I have to scramble to grab my phone and skip it as soon as possible because it’s a huge trigger for me. I can’t even listen to Chance anymore. One of my favorite artists, I can’t hear his voice without being incredibly triggered. Target itself is a huge trigger for me. Certain video games are triggers. I used to be one of those people who would randomly use “triggered” in conversation, and now I hate it. I hate it because I now truly understand what it means to be triggered. Imagine having a normal day at work, listening to music, and one of my musical triggers comes on, even for a split second, even if I skip it one second into the song, it’s too late. That is the definition of triggered. Because then that normal day at work, in that one second, in that instant, I’m triggered. My mind is triggered. My idiot brain immediately starts speeding through thoughts of her, of memories with her and that song, and then it’s a domino effect, once I think about that for a while, that leads me to think about something else that has to do with her, over and over and over again for the rest of the day. Triggers are no joke. I don’t use the word any more. It’s like how people, including myself, have recently stopped saying things like retard, nigga, etc. People are being more sensitive of the people those words actually affect. And the word trigger actually affects me, and now that I understand it, I can’t throw it around like it’s nothing anymore. And when I see 12 year olds online typing shit like “T R I G G E R E D,” it genuinely upsets me. “TRIGGER WARNING LUL” is so commonly thrown around online it’s ridiculous. You can’t actually tell what is and isn’t an actual trigger warning anymore. And then it might actually be a trigger and your mind just instantly goes into racing mode and thinks like crazy. I’m so sensitive to these things now. I mean I’ve always been a sensitive person. I sympathize like… wait that’s the wrong word isn’t it? I empathize? I think it’s empathize. Yes I just googled it it’s empathize. I empathize like crazy. If someone is upset or feeling down or crying, I’ll start to feel the same way. I’ve always been very sensitive, and I mask it with sarcastic comments and jokes. I cry at stupid romcoms. I’m a baby. And so that sensitivity kept in mind with all these triggers? I am so fragile. I am more fragile than I’ve ever been in my life. I feel like at any moment I can experience a heavy trigger and just start crying.

And man. Just being awake, being alive, is exhausting. I am so stressed by every aspect of my life, and my anxiety just amplifies the stress by about a thousand times. I was just talking to Tim the other day about being tired, physically and mentally. He was telling me how at Workday, it’s not even that the work is difficult, it’s just stressful getting everything done in time, to the point that by the end of the day or week, he’s physically exhausted even though he wasn’t doing heavy physical activity. And of course, I couldn’t tell him all that I’ve been going through, so I just agreed. Gave him the “mhm, yeah I feel that.” But god he’s right. Being mentally exhausted then leads to making you physically exhausted. So for the past couple months, being so anxious about PCN weekend (which ended up being for nothing because she wasn’t even there), and then after PCN weekend contacting her, then being anxious about my next opportunity, and then the events of the past week. And starting a new job just a couple months ago, in such an important position, I have tons of work being the only web developer maintaining an entire website that’s continuously expanding and needing style changes and new promos to be advertised and the amount of work I have is endless. We use this thing called Jira just like at my old job, and in the backlog I’ve got like 80 issues assigned to me. That’s more issues than the total amount I had in 2 years at Tapestry, where I used to work. And it’s been 2 months. In this sprint alone, which is biweekly sprints, I have 17 issues. There is no downtime at work. Overtime is the norm. Sure I’m getting hella money because overtime pay, but god it’s hard to keep up. And on top of all the anxiety of trying to befriend my ex and have her there to talk to and help me through this, on top of how much work I have, I’m also dealing with the duties of being a Best Man at a wedding. I’ve been doing so much and spending so much money trying to help out my brother as best as I can for his wedding. My past two credit card statements were both above 2 grand each. I’ve had to stay up planning stuff, like for the bachelor party, etc. The stress in my life is endless. And my anxiety only makes it worse. I can’t even imagine a person *without* a mental disorder going through what I’ve been going through. It’s terrible. And that’s why I wanted so bad to have her to talk to. I have no one else I’m comfortable with or close enough with to say all this stuff to. I’m going through one of the most difficult years in my life, alone. No one should have to do that. I wouldn’t wish this upon someone that I hate. It isn’t fun. I’ve been so mentally exhausted and overwhelmed, which leads me to be so physically exhausted, it’s been torture. I am so tired. I am so exhausted. I am so done with everything. I want to pause life for like 10 years. I now understand why for over 90% of suicide cases, the victim has a diagnosable mental disorder. This shit is incredibly difficult to handle. If I wasn’t raised to be so strongheaded, motivated, independent, and moral, I’m pretty sure I’d be one of those cases. I’m keeping myself alive just because of how my personality is, how determined I am as a person. Like, let’s put it this way: and to those of you reading, don’t worry, don’t secretly submit my name for the suicide watchlist, I’m not going to do it, I never will, but let’s put it this way, if suicide wasn’t so scary or painful or difficult, like if there was just a simple off-switch for life, I’d probably have pushed that off-switch last night.

Mental illness is one hell of a struggle. I didn’t tell this to my parents, or anyone as a matter of fact, but I anonymously donated my first paycheck to the Brain & Behavior Research Foundation. It was one of the first websites I researched anxiety on, and it told me a lot. There’s tons of information on their website, and 100% of their donations go towards researching mental disorders. One thing I saw on their website under the anxiety section was this article on a drug in development that people will take to help anxiety, it’s basically a dose of oxytocin, which is basically a neurotoxin that’s produced when you feel in love. This explains why for the past four years while I was in a relationship with my ex, my anxiety was so manageable to the point that I didn’t even know I had it. Before college, I was too young to understand what was going on and what I was going through. In college, I was so god damn in love with this girl that my oxytocin levels were off the charts, and my anxiety was way chilled out. And that’s why once the relationship ended, my anxiety skyrocketed. Because yes, I was still in love with her for months afterward, but it wasn’t the same, you know? My mind probably wasn’t producing the same levels because it wasn’t reciprocated, it was me being sad that I love this girl but I don’t have her anymore. And honestly to this day, sure she’s changed so much in these past 8 months, I can just tell, but I’m sure that if I spent an hour with her, she’d be just as easy to fall in love with again as she was when I met her. But anyway, I got sidetracked. Mental illness is no small matter. I’m hoping that my donation has some impact. There’s a lot to learn about mental illnesses and disorders from the current research that’s out there, and there’s even more to learn about them that we still don’t know. I had to donate because I couldn’t imagine all the people, younger than me, same age, or older, no matter what they were going through in their lives, I couldn’t imagine just how many people are also dealing with mental disorders. I’m hoping that every little bit helps. My paychecks are weekly so it wasn’t like it was a massive paycheck, but I’m sure that a donation of over one thousand dollars had to have some form of impact. Maybe my money will reach a scientist who discovers a natural medication or treatment that helps people with anxiety. Who knows. I don’t. But it felt good to support a cause that I know and understand so well because I’m going through it. Honestly, it feels good to support any good cause. I donated to a friend’s cause, her name is Rhia, a couple months back for something called Camp Kesem, and her story had to do with her sister dealing with cancer at a young age, and I felt the need to help her out and support her, because no one should be going through that alone, and she just reposted it, and even though I’m trying to save for a car, I think I’m gonna donate a hundred bucks. Last time I only donated 20 because I hadn’t started my job yet. But now I have money. No one should go through something alone. No one should have to deal with a problem like a mental disorder, or cancer, or disease, alone or without having a support system, so I feel that it’s important to donate to causes like these, even if it’s a small amount. And wow I just realized how ironic that was. I am currently dealing with a problem like that alone and without a support system. Can I fund my own cause to purchase a friend whom I can trust and feel comfortable with and know I am not a bother to. That is something I would donate to.

Update.

I really don’t want to post this because I don’t to worry the few of you who read this, but I must. I’ll be fine. Eventually. Just give me a few years.

Okay. Well. I am officially more confused than ever. I guess those posts about her that I said I couldn’t write anymore will be posted in the next couple of days.

Hello everyone. And by everyone, I honestly don’t know who I mean. The couple of people who said they have read my posts and checked up on me, I don’t know if they’re still reading these or not, if you are, hello, I appreciate you, and thank you for not pushing up on me for conversation or to continuously check up on me and giving me my space, but for still supporting me. If you guys are still reading these, I want you to know it makes me happy to know that if I ever need help, you guys know my situation and are ready to help, but you aren’t invading my space. That means a lot.

Anyway, on to the post.

So. Uh. I guess all my questions have been answered… Every question that I wanted the answer from her to be yes, the answer was no. And every question that I wanted the answer to be no from her, the answer was yes. I have come to this conclusion because she blocked me on tumblr lol. I’m assuming that her liking it and then proceeding to block me meant “Hey, I read your post(s) and I’d like you to know that I’ve read them, but please don’t talk to me anymore.” What else could it mean? Could that be her way of trying to protect me from more of a mental breakdown? Like “Hey, I read your post(s), I’m gonna block you so that you think about me less.” Does it mean like “Hey, I read your post(s), please get over me and get out of my life.” I mean of course my mind thinks it’s one of the bad ones. My mind mostly thinks it’s something along the lines of “Hey, I read your post(s), but I still think you’re a piece of shit and never want to speak to you again.” I don’t know what’s going on. I really don’t. And I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. I’m stressing out over this. And idk. After I thought about it consistently for 48 hours straight, I think I was kind of okay knowing she was reading the posts in the end. It freaked me the fuck out at first, but like… That was my ultimate goal, was it not? Her understanding what I was going through. Her knowing what I’ve been through since we broke up. Her knowing what goes on in my head. That was the ultimate goal. And did that goal not get reached? Sure, it wasn’t how I planned it. I didn’t get to say it all in person. It didn’t go down in the way I thought it would at all. I never thought she’d see my posts. But all that aside, the goal was reached. Was it not? And after drilling that into my head the past couple of days, her blocking me has actually made me sad. I think, if she had liked my post and then blocked me immediately, my mind would have understood like “she gets it, but she can’t talk to me.” And that would have been that. But the fact that there was so much downtime between the two, that is what worries me. What was she thinking about between the time of liking my first post, and blocking me? And did she read any of my other posts? And god okay there are still so many questions left unanswered, I lied about them all being answered. In fact, there are probably even more questions now than there were after she originally liked the post. But her blocking me has made me sad because I quickly got comfortable with the fact that she’s read my posts, or at least one of them, the most important one, because it kind of felt like she was catching up with my life, which is part of what I’ve been wanting, but I wanted it to be reciprocated, but now that she blocked me it’s like she’s back to not knowing any more. Like she doesn’t want to know any more.

What do I do? Now that she’s blocked me, my anxiety has shot back up to a similar level of when she liked my post. Because now I really don’t know what any of it meant. And honestly, my anxiety is getting so bad that I’m actually considering texting her and just straight up asking her what’s going on. Of course, that goes against everything I’ve said before about being too anxious to contact her first, but when you’re having legitimate medical scares caused by how much mental and emotional stress you’re in and caused by your insane levels of anxiety, it kind of overrides your anxiety itself and makes you want to get a hold of the situation. I’ve legitimately been having these weird heart palpitations the past few days since the post got liked. They kind of subsided towards the end of yesterday (they were going on throughout the car ride to and from Torrance), but this morning, finding out she blocked me, and my mind going nuts once again, they’re back. And I’m actually terrified of having a stroke or heart attack. When I said “I’m gonna have a heart attack” in my mental breakdown post, I was half-kidding. But now I’m like actually scared of it and I might schedule a doctor’s appointment for this weekend just in case to get it checked out. What the fuck is it called? Arythmic heartbeat? Some shit like that? Okay it’s Arrhythmia I just googled it. Yeah I think I’mma go into the doctors because I feel my heart beat in a weird manner kind of like a triple pump or flutter every like 20 seconds and it’s freaking me out. This isn’t good for me. I should really just force myself to text her and figure out what she means by liking that post and then blocking me a day later so that I can calm my mind down a bit. Even if it’s bad news, like “it meant I never want to talk to you again” that’ll at least chill my nervousness and anxiety about the whole situation because there at least won’t be confusion and a million scenarios to think about. But because I have no clue what any of it meant, my mind is swirling with all those scenarios, most of them bad. I can’t keep a straight train of thought man. This is unhealthy. Too much stress. Too much anxiety. Too many meltdowns for such a short span of time.

I apologize for yesterday.

Back to normal posts.

But anyway, I had an emergency session with my therapist today after work and told him everything. And he started by telling me that it’s okay that I posted what I did yesterday. He said it’s good that people know what you’re going through, and just how uncontrollable it is, and how hard it can be for you when you’re overwhelmed. So I guess I’m keeping the post up no matter how much I’m embarrassed by it. Then I vented to him for like 10 minutes straight about how unexpected it was that she saw my posts and that I didn’t want her to ever hear any of that stuff unless it came from me in person. Or not necessarily in person, but at least with my voice. A call, a video call, in person. Whatever. As long as I had the ability to speak those words with proper tone and stuff so that I don’t just sound like a freak. And how much the fact that the unexpected happened and how unprepared I was for it and how much it overwhelmed me. But he explained that we can’t know for sure that it was a bad thing and that I shouldn’t freak out too much even though it’s kinda too late for that due to yesterday’s post lol. We discussed good outcomes which my mind refuses to think about, so that was nice. My mind always thinks of the worst possible scenarios unless someone else tells me otherwise or unless I know for sure that a good scenario will occur. And he ultimately got me to focus on the thought of maybe it’s a good thing that it happened. Maybe it’s a good thing that she saw. It was her knowing all that stuff that I wanted so badly to happen, that’s just not at all how I wanted it to happen. And of course, all my questions are still unanswered, but he was able to calm me down and tell me that hopefully in time most or some or all of those questions can be answered, whether it’s somehow having a chance to talk to her alone about it all, or some other way. All I know is that I am still dying to have that chance to talk to her. That is the one thing that I want more than anything is to be able to sit down with her and just talk. And since she read that post about everything, it wouldn’t even have to necessarily be about all that stuff. I’d be fine with just a normal conversation. Catching up with each other. Talking about anything and everything like we once did, as friends who could trust each other and tell each other anything because we were comfortable with each other. Of course my mind still thinks I have to say all that stuff in my first post directly to her, but that’s probably not necessary anymore. But. I don’t know. I don’t know where I’m going with this. I’m somewhat recovered from yesterday. It’s definitely still all I’m thinking about because I haven’t had any contact with her yet, but I’m definitely not as bad as yesterday. Yesterday was the first time I ever really had a full-on panic attack caused by my anxiety. And I thought I was gonna die. I was having heart palpitations and shit. Talking to my therapist chilled me out a bit, but my nervousness and anxiety about the whole thing is still shaking me. I am so anxious of what’s to come. Because it could be anything. That could be it. Her liking and unliking that post as a way for me to know she read it could be it, and she won’t talk to me otherwise. Or she might contact me and we talk. Or we might somehow have a chance to talk by ourselves in person like I wanted. I don’t know. Anything can happen. And when anything can happen, it makes me more anxious than anything. When there aren’t one or two or three possible outcomes that I can think about, focus on, and mentally prepare myself for, I get nervous about things. There’s just too much to think about, too much to try and prepare for. But whatever happens, I’m hoping it’s okay. I’m hoping everything turns out okay. I’m hoping that by posting somewhere that she could see even though I didn’t think she would, I haven’t ruined my chances of having her understand. I don’t know. I just don’t know what to think. I just don’t know anymore. I’m more lost than ever here. I’m more anxious than ever here. And I think I’m gonna end the post here. I’d like to go chill out again and get my mind distracted off of this, even though that’s not really possible, maybe I can distract it just a little bit with some video games or something.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaa ha haaaaaaaaaa HAAA ha hah haha haaaa heh. Hmmmmm. Huh. Hokay. Uhmmmmmmm.

Well shit.

Hi. Greetings. Hello. Howdy doo. My mind has been absolutely fuckin racing today. I did not get any god damn work done. Which is okay thank god because we released on Friday so I actually wasn’t on a time crunch today or anything, it was more just continuing to check the pages of the live site and make sure everything looks okay and that all my changes went through alright with the push to live. So tbh it looks like I was doing work today, but in reality I was just mindlessly scrolling down random pages across the website staring into space while my mind raced at the speed of light.

I woke up to a ghost notification today. You know one of those ones where you just wake up, you read the notification all groggy, tap on it, and then there’s nothing there? It happens a lot to me with facebook, like someone commenting on something or liking something or posting something, but then I click on it and nothing is there. Well this morning it happened with tumblr, and I must say that is the fastest I have ever gone from just-woken-up-to-my-alarm to full on eyes-wide-open-what-the-fuck-is-going-on. I am slowly finding out that more people that know me still use tumblr and are seeing my posts. And I found out through this notification that undid itself that someone significant who I thought would never see these is seeing my posts. Someone liked the first of these posts I started writing. The very first one, the one that explained my background story to all zero of my readers, at least I was hoping it would be zero readers, but it turned out to be a couple of friends reading it. Someone very important liked it, but when I clicked the notification out of pure bewilderment, the like wasn’t there on my post. Have you actually been reading all my posts? Have you read all of them or only that one? Was it an accident? Was it a way to give me a sign that you’ve been reading my posts, or that you specifically read that post, the most substantial one? And did you remove your like so that your name wasn’t on the post under the likes if someone clicked did? Or did you remove your like because it was an accident? Or did you remove your like because it was on purpose but then you thought about it and regretted it a couple minutes later and unliked it and hoped that I’d just never know you did? I have so many questions, and so many scenarios, and if you’ve been reading my posts, you know how my brain works so I’m choosing and focusing on the bad scenarios. What should I do now that you did that? Now that I know you’re reading my posts, or at least read the big one? Do I bring it up to you? Or are you going to contact me? Does liking it mean you understand? Does liking it mean my self-hatred satisfies you? See you weren’t supposed to see any of these. The way I saw it happening was supposed to be me figuring out a way to discuss things in person. But now you’ve read it all. So will you ever want to talk in person now? And if so do I have to repeat everything I typed out? Or do I elaborate more because I guarantee you I can talk about it for another 48 hours straight and still have 90% more of my thoughts to go through? And if not, why? Do you dislike me more now? Have these posts made you uncomfortable? Do you understand where I’m coming from? Do you forgive me at all even though I don’t deserve forgiveness? Can I have a hug if we end up talking? I HAVE SO MANY MORE QUESTIONS. My mind has not stopped. I am freaking out here. I’ve been freaking out all day. This was not supposed to happen. But now that it’s happened, I don’t know what to do. I’ve had a text typed up to you all day, but can’t get myself to press send just in case it was an accident or you regretted your decision and changed your mind about me finding out or didn’t want me to find out in the first place. According to my fitbit my average heartrate today has been 15bpm higher than usual. According to my mental fitbit my mind has been racing 50000 times more than usual (could you imagine if that was real? A mental fitbit? If there was something that measured your mental activity? Mine would be off the charts, especially today). I’m gonna have a heart attack. This confusion and being lost and not knowing what to think about this is eating me alive. My brain is mush. I can’t handle any more thoughts today. I need to smoke weed and sit down away from all electronics and do nothing and put myself in a hypnotic state or some shit. No computer, laptop, phone, NO FITBIT GOT DAM IT’S MAKING ME FEAR MY LIFE. AHHHHHH. Someone cut off my brain please ok goodbye good night so long farewell to u my friend goodbye 4 now until we meet again i have gone insane. Man now all I can think of is how there are some things I should not have said in that post and maybe in a couple other posts because I did not want those things to be read by you. And now there are a couple posts on the backburner that I can no longer post because they probably shouldn’t be read by you. Also if you don’t contact me any time soon then I will assume that it meant that you just wanted me to know you read them but you don’t plan on taking any action because as I’m sure you could tell I will not be able to be the person who initiates contact because I can’t get myself to do that. Which would suck tbh I hope there is some form of action taken and it’s not just left at that because then my mind will be an infinite abyss of nervousness and anxiety and thoughts on this topic. Holy moly I can’t even handle my brain right now. It has been like this all day. I am having a breakdown. I have been having an all day breakdown. Alright. I needa go relax. WAIT. If you actually read this I am sorry if you did not want to be called out like this but I couldn’t get myself to contact you directly I am so sorry you make me incredibly nervous and since you have apparently read that post then you know exactly why. OK SERIOUSLY NEED TO GO CALM DOWN. I’m sorry for having an absolute mental breakdown, this is what happens when you have a mental problem and you don’t mentally prepare yourself for something because you didn’t see it coming at all and then it happens and your mind just breaks. Okay i’m still rambling because my mind is flooded i gotta go for reals bye.

hi! you don’t know me but i’ve been reading your posts (old follower who never unfollowed) and i had a question. what do you think about the most? which thought do you focus on the most? or which thought occurs the most? or i’m not sure how to word the question but do you get what i mean? ^-^; i’m suffering with depression so talking about mental problems with others and hearing experiences makes me feel comforted and not alone. you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to!~

Well hello friendly, anonymous stranger! I’m terribly sorry to hear that you’ve been dealing with depression, but the most important thing to remember is that you are definitely not alone! And if you aren’t already, I’d highly suggest looking into a mental health professional near you, aka a therapist. I was reluctant at first but it has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. They understand exactly what you’re going through and can explain things better than others and can definitely help you feel like you’re not alone. Anyway, on to the question.

Okay phew I’m back. I had to really sit down with no distractions and think about that one. Lmao, how ironic. Me. Sit down and “really think” about something. I’m always thinking. But anyway, I’m definitely going to have to say my recent relationship/my ex-girlfriend. It’s just the most substantial thing in my 23 years of life so far that it’s had the most impact on my thoughts and my life overall. Originally I thought that was weird and was going to make up an answer, but after thinking about it: I was in a relationship with her for about 3.5 years. And tbh we were kinda doing relationship-y things a couple months before we actually got together so let’s just round to 4. My life from being born to the age of 18 consisted of nothing that I’d need to think about in life now, it was just grade school. Nothing substantial enough to affect your adulthood really happens in those years to most people. So basically, starting at age 18. Think about it, a year later from being 18, I was in a relationship with her. And it’s been, rounding up again, a year since we broke up. So that’s my reasoning as to why it’s not weird that this is all I can think about. From when my life really became important and something to pay attention to, which was basically entering college, I had a year to myself to get used to college life, and then my second year I got into the relationship, and I just graduated last summer, and that’s when we broke up. My entire “adult life” was my relationship pretty much. The only other things that I still think about from the last 6 years of my life are PCE (the club I was in throughout college), and a couple of my friends from college. Everything else I don’t even think about anymore, like my academics (which is hilarious, I don’t think about my college classes anymore which is why I was there), my two years as a part timer at a boeing company, and college life in general. I dunno. There’s just really nothing substantial enough in my mind except her to really be thinking about. And the main reason I still think about her so much is because of what I mentioned in a previous post, something along the lines of I continuously think about the fact that she thinks I’m a piece of shit human probably. Like I said before, my anxiety stems off of people being happy, right? Well, what people think of me branches off of that. Put it this way: if I’m in a room with someone, and they like me and think I’m hilarious and enjoy my presence, they’re probably happy, or if they’re not, I’m most likely not the reason. If I’m in a room with someone, and I know they don’t like me, that means they’re unhappy, because why would they want to be around me? So basically, if someone doesn’t like me, it triggers my anxiety because then I’m anxious about being around them, and I’m anxious about when they think about me, because neither time will they be happy. And so the thought of her disliking me because of what I became when my anxiety began to run rampant two or three years ago, that fuels my anxiety more than anything else. Because she means so much to me, she was such a large part of my life, I still admire her and care about her, all of that combined with the thought that she doesn’t like me or thinks I’m a terrible person makes it that much worse. If there’s a person I don’t like that doesn’t like me, I could care less. If someone I thought was a friend doesn’t like me, that would make me anxious and I’d worry. Someone like her not liking me, that’s like 100 thousand times the amount of anxiety. Which is why I made that huge post about wanting to meet up with her and explain everything and hope that I can change her mind about what she remembers me as and what she thinks of me whenever she does.

Greetings.

Man, I needed this weekend. It just… It feels like I haven’t had a weekend in so long. This last weekend was my brother’s birthday, so we had a family bbq on saturday, and then sunday we went to the restaurant that we’re having the wedding reception at and I had to go get fitted for my suit. The weekend before that was PCN so I was in SLO. The weekend before that I spent painting rooms in the house and rearranging my room. The weekend before that was the bachelor party weekend in san diego. God I needed a weekend where I could just sit and do nothing. All I’ll have to do is go pick up my suit for the wedding and get it altered a bit. I really needed some recharge time. Surrounded by people every single one of those past weekends except when I was painting and rearranging. My mind needs a break. Badly.

The whole needing-a-month-to-recharge thing still stands true to this day. And I think the reasoning behind that is just that I overthink every interaction I have, ever. And so I need time to stop thinking about past interactions and prepare myself for new ones. I’m pretty sure this is why I’ve had such amazing memory my whole life, is because everything that happens to me, substantial or not, significant or not, I go over it again and again, I replay it in my head again and again, to the point where I can quote entire conversations from years ago word for word. Which I think is to blame for the fact that I need so long to recharge. One full day or night of interacting with others and being surrounded by others, I have so many conversations to overthink and process when I get home that it takes a long time to repeat them all and make sure I didn’t say anything stupid and think of better things that I could have said even though it’s too late now to change what I said in the past. I don’t know, but I honestly dislike it. Yeah, having a good memory is great. But being so analytical about literally meaningless shit like that? It’s fucking annoying. But I can’t help it. And that’s the one thing that brings me down the most about this whole anxiety thing. I. Can’t. Help. It. That’s so fucked, man. It’s a literal mental illness. It’s something that I can’t control or do anything about, no matter how hard I try, no matter how badly I want to. I can’t stand the fact that I’ll repeat to myself 50 times throughout the day how my manager and I exchanged “good morning”s each and every day. And I’ll just repeat my “good morning” in my head with a different inflection in my head to see if that would have sounded nicer or more welcoming or happy to be in to work. And then if I pass someone on my team on my way to the bathroom or to the kitchen when I’m grabbing my daily black tea, the eye contact, the smile, the nod, the “hey!”, I repeat that whole sequence over and over again for the rest of the day inside my head. AND I CAN’T HELP IT. It drives me nuts. And I’ve been doing this my whole life, just not to this degree. The earliest I recall doing this is in middle school. But I definitely did it all throughout high school and college, but 100% not to this degree that it’s reached. I repeated conversations maybe a couple times, and just after they happened, like as I walked away from people. But my anxiety has worsened to the point where it’s for multiple hours, more than a couple of times. And for some reason, some conversations/interactions just stick with me. I’ll find myself going back to them months after they’ve occurred. Some of them held some importance in my life, but some are so fucking pointless I do not understand my brain’s thought process in continuing to analyze the pointless ones; the important interactions I guess make sense, but still, no normal human continues to analyze and imagine different things that could have been said in an interaction that far after the interaction, or this often, or to the degree at which I do.

My therapist originally asked if I wanted to take antidepressants (I guess that’s the best/most common medication for anxiety patients? Which is kinda weird? But then again I guess that’s not that weird? idk?) but I told him right off the bat as soon as he mentioned any form of medication that I refuse to start taking pills, my only approved form of medication would be marijuana. I don’t want to get addicted to happy pills, man. I don’t want to be living such a fake life. Pop a happy pill so that I can talk to people as if I’m doing so fine and dandy and the entire world is cupcakes and rainbows. Every. Single. Day. And become dependent on them, and not feel like myself if I haven’t had a pill in a day. That’s not me. That’s not what I want to become. So I told him straight up, no, and I will never consider that as an option. But trust me, it comes across my train of thought more often than you’d think. When you hit the point where all your brain can think is “please stop thinking. Please stop overthinking this shit. Please stop repeating this shit, it’s already happened, you can’t change the past, no matter how many times you repeat it and try to imagine it differently.” Like, your brain stops thinking about a million topics at once just to tell itself that it’s batshit crazy, those are the times that I’m like “fuck. Would a pill really turn this piece of shit anxiety ridden brain off?” But I don’t think I ever will. No matter how insane my anxiety drives me, I don’t think I’ll ever agree to taking a pill that alters my brain activity or my emotions like that. Because all I can think of is becoming a zombie. Or an empty shell. Just a lifeless, mobile encasing of a human that doesn’t have real or genuine feelings, it’s just acting based on what a pill tells it to do. And that shit freaks me out more than the millions of thoughts my brain tries to process at once, even at the worst of times. And anyways, that’s what weed is for. It’s not addictive. There haven’t been any proven medical problems that arise from using it. You don’t become dependent on it. And it’s not something that I feel that I need throughout the day to interact normally. I only use it at night when I’m trying to relax or fall asleep.

Been super busy at work because it’s release week, so when I get home I’m pretty worn out and just wanna chill and play some video games, so this one will probably be pretty short.

But I’ve really enjoyed writing on here so far. My therapist was right when he said knowing that you have people around you who hear about and understand what you’re going through will take a load off your shoulders. He basically said it would be a great feeling knowing that you’re not just sitting there, writing to yourself, alone in your thoughts; that I’d have people reading what’s going on in my mind and kind of keeping up with me. Even though I don’t really talk to the people who are reading these as much anymore, it’s nice to at least know they are reading them, and they’re there if I need them. That’s a comforting feeling.

First off, I’m enjoying my job. It’s great. I look forward to coming in and interacting with my tiny team and having a good day. We’re a small team of four: my manager, a web designer, a digital content specialist, and me, a web developer. I’m a brand new position, too. Which is super cool. They’ve been doing their web stuff through a third-party company, and they wanna phase them out, so I’m a new position. Which means plenty of room for growth, promotions, raises, etc. In fact, I’m already interviewing people soon, we’ve been looking at resumes the past few weeks. And a majority of them are like… Senior-level, so they’re kinda old. So I’m gonna be interviewing people who are 10-20 years older than me LMAO. Right out of college. That’s some feels fuckin’ good, man. And let me tell you, weekly pay? Weekly pay is the greatest thing. I wake up every wednesday to a fat check in my bank account. And let me tell you, monthly AND yearly bonuses? BOI. Monthly bonus of 30 hours of work, so basically an extra paycheck per month. And yearly bonus of 120 hours of work. So basically an extra month of paychecks per year. BOIIIIIII. So sure, this job wasn’t my first choice. The location wasn’t my first choice. Web developer wasn’t my first choice. But it’s all working out in the end. Not to mention, the company is fucking massive. It’s the largest CNC machine company in the United States, and one of the top in the world. That’s a big name, man. I’m a big boy, at a big company. Already. How many of my friends from college can say that? Say that they’re interviewing and hiring people at a billion-dollar company that is the biggest and most successful in its field in the United States, and top three in the world. I’m betting on none being the answer to that question. None of my friends can say that. Or anything remotely close to that. Sure I don’t get to live in the bay with all the homies, but I’m five minutes from the beach in lovely weather, unlimited black tea in the work kitchen to start off every day, the old ladies in Accounting bake dank-ass shit and bring it in a couple times a week, I’m living life.

Well, I now know that a couple of friends are indeed reading these posts, so what up dudes. Originally that made me kinda nervous. My first thought was to take the posts down and just revert back to writing entries in my google drive, but then I thought about it and realized that it’s a good thing. And also it’s literally what my therapist told me to do. He told me to post it on social media so that my friends were aware of what I was going through, and I had used tumblr as a kind of loophole, but it turns out that loophole I thought I was using backfired on me, but for the better. The loophole of posting somewhere that no one who knows me will see failed me, but I’m glad it did actually.

The people who have been reading this that I know of have all reached out to me, given me words of support, care, motivation, and are generally just great people and I love u guys for real. You’re amazing. I was scared to let people know which is why I tried to post somewhere that no one would read, mostly because I thought people would treat me differently, and I didn’t want that. That’s one of the biggest problems with mental disorders and illnesses in today’s world, is that as soon as people find out something’s wrong with you, you become alien to them. They treat you differently. They might think they’re helping or treating you the right way by giving you more sympathy or babying you or talking in a softer, calmer manner as if you’re a child, but that’s really not what’s right. We don’t want to be treated differently. I sure as hell don’t. That was one of my main fears of posting on social media and people finding out. I was so afraid that people who read it would approach me or text me or call me and give me that bullshit. Nothing has changed about me. Okay I can’t say that, I’m a completely different person than I was a year ago. But what I mean is nothing has changed about the way you should be treating me. And I’m so glad that those of you who have admitted to reading these and called me or texted me to check up on me are treating me as you normally would, talking to me as you always have. That means a lot to me. It doesn’t make me feel like an outsider or like I’m some freak or someone completely different than you used to know. So thank you. Anyway, enough of that, on to my next train of thought from the weekend that I wanted to write about.

This one probably won’t be as long as usual because there’s only so much I can say about it, it’s not a very in-depth topic. But basically, what sparked this new thing that my mind thinks about a lot was what a friend said to me over the weekend. What I mean by that is that there are certain things I don’t really realize or think about, and then it’ll be brought up somehow or it’ll get brought to my attention by something, and then my mind will take it, and start to pound it with thoughts. That’s how my anxiety builds up and gets worse and worse, which is why I write. I write to get out all those thoughts on certain subjects as a way to tone down the loudness in my head, bring the bullet train from 300mph to 250mph. So this recent thing that my mind has been thinking about a lot recently was brought to my attention by Michael. I guess now that I know people are reading these, I might as well use actual names since you guys actually know these people and you’ll understand what I’m talking about more. Not Michael as in my brother, but Michael, homie man homie man, Michael A. lol. That Michael. Michael and I have always hung out because he hangs out with my ading Josh a lot, so simply by association I used to see Michael a lot, and whenever I visit slo I end up spending quite a bit of time with him. On Friday night, my first night there, it was like 1 am, we were just chillin in Josh’s room because all the first and second years from pcn were partying in the main area of the house, and Josh’s room is in the back, and we don’t really know all the young’ns that well, so we’re having our own thing in the back lol. It was just me, Josh, and Michael talking, smoking, listening to music, the usual. Now, from my experiences, Michael isn’t one to ever really compliment people on the real. He’ll kind of do the bro-compliment type stuff like “DAMN BOI U LOOKIN FIRE AYYY” and shit like that, but those kinds of compliments are more just to sauce up ur bros and get ‘em feelin good u know. But we were sitting there, we finished one topic of conversation and so we were all just sitting with the music playing, and Michael looks up at me, and goes, with these exact words, “bruh so how you getting your dick wet? You on tinder?” LMAO. I fuckin laughed because that wording was hilarious to me. But I said nah, and then he says to me “damn, really? You should consider it cause seriously dude you’re actually hot as fuck now, you’d get swiped right all day, honestly.” And that took me aback. That actually surprised me. Even with the wording, it was one of the most genuine compliments I’ve ever received. The way he said it was so convincing and like, so real. He really meant that he thinks I look fine as hell now that I’ve lost so much weight and cleaned up my style and stuff. And I could really tell it was genuine because I’ve heard him do his brotherly compliments, and the way he said this to me was completely different. And damn that felt good. Because all weekend, every time I’ve visited slo since I graduated, everyone that comes up to me and says hi will be like “oh my gawd ur lookin so goooood!!!” or “daaaamn look at youuuu!!! So fit now!!!” but it just feels so forced. It’s not out of genuinely wanting to let me know I look good or have done well in getting fit and losing weight, it’s that thing that people do where like, no matter what the change is, you gotta support it and tell them that the change is awesome. Your friend gets a haircut, it looks kinda weird, but still, when you see them, “DAMN MAN FRESH CUT BABY HELL YA”. They get new shoes, the color doesn’t really match what they wear, but still, “OOOWEE LOOKIT DEM KICKS.” You know what I mean? It’s just so forced. It doesn’t feel real. I mean of course, maybe some people saying that stuff to me are being super genuine about it, but still, mostly it feels forced. But when Michael said that to me man, it was real, it wasn’t forced at all, so I really took it to heart and it really motivated me and made me feel a lot better about myself. That’s one thing I still haven’t come to terms with, something I’m still not used to, is realizing that I am attractive now. I went the first 22 years of my life being unattractive, fat, terrible sense of style, terrible haircuts. So it’s branded into my brain that that’s me. That’s what I’m like. I’m not used to being fit, having some clean-ass clothes and outfits, lookin’ good as hell. But hearing that from Michael this weekend definitely helped. Because that is for sure something I’ve been working on. And I feel like once I accept the fact that I’m an attractive man, my self-confidence will go way up, and my self-consciousness will in turn go down, because I’m usually very self-conscious, and I don’t like that. I can’t wait until I’m fully confident in my looks and I’m proud of what I look like now and really work it, cause I deserve that. I’ve worked hard to get to this point. BUT ANYWAY. I’M GETTING SO OFF TRACK. The ORIGINAL TOPIC of this post was supposed to be Tinder, which is why it was supposed to be a short post. So here we go. Tinder. LMAO.

I don’t think I feel comfortable using Tinder. Like… Okay I honestly have no clue how it ACTUALLY works, but from what I understand, it’s basically just an app to hook up with people you think are attractive and live nearby you. That’s it. You both think the other person is hot, you match, you message when/where, you fuck, you leave. Now I could be totally wrong, but I’ve never used it before nor talked to people about it before, so idk. But that’s how I see it. Now… I dunno, man. That just doesn’t seem like something I’d enjoy. Of course, sex is fuckin great, yeah. Who wouldn’t want to pick and choose hot, attractive people to have sex with and just do it? That’s fuckin dope, I see why Tinder is such a popular app. But for me, it’s like yeah sex is amazing, but is that something I’d be comfortable with? I feel like real, intimate sex is way more enjoyable, satisfying, and comfortable. And I feel like Tinder sex would be kinda awkward and overly fake. Especially keeping in mind the fact that I have trouble communicating with people, even with those who know me. How would I communicate to some girl over an app to have casual sex. I can’t do that. Idk how to do that. And I’d feel weird doing that. And honestly, the thought of the actual meeting up to hook up gives me a huge rush of anxiety. Because… When you’re meeting up, you both know it’s just to fuck real quick, so how do you greet each other? How do you avoid that being awkward? And how do you get into it? How would the foreplay start? Is there foreplay? And what about after? Do you just silently put your clothes back on and dip? Do you say thank you? LMFAO. I just legitimately laughed out loud at that one, do you say thank you LOOOL. “Uh… Thanks for… having sex??? Bye???” “haha uh yeah thank you! Bye!” LMAO. But seriously. Even if I felt comfortable with the idea, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t follow through because I wouldn’t know how the actual in-person interaction would work. So although Michael made a good point that I could totally go on tinder and get a fuckton of matches and go have sex whenever I want with some girl I find attractive, I just don’t think I ever would. It’s not something I’d feel okay with. I’d be too anxious about it actually happening if I messaged someone on the app. And then during it I’d be nervous about it being awkward. And then afterward I feel like I’d just feel dirty… Idk… Idkidkidk. It’s such a normal thing, casual sex, but at the same time, it’s such a weird thing. Sex is fun, so why does the thought of casual sex for fun feel so weird to me? Idk. But it just doesn’t seem like my thing. So sorry to disappoint, Michael and Tinder. My only response to both questions, how am I “gettin my dick wet” and am I using Tinder, is simply that I’m not. Not gettin my dick wet nor using Tinder. Lmao. Oh well.

My goodness.

I have a lot of different topics to write about after this weekend, but I’m not trying to make a 10-page post about all of them at once. I’ll probably end up making one post a day for the next couple days.

Today I’m gonna write about something that I’ve never actually had a reason to write about out of my nearly 300 google doc entries (I think I’m at like… 263? Counting my couple of recent tumblr posts?). Which is weird. I guess it’s just because I hadn’t experienced an extremely obvious indication of what I’m about to write about before yesterday.

My anxiety went AWOL when I didn’t see her the entire weekend. I was so worried that something had happened. As soon as the weekend was over and I was certain she wasn’t there at all over the weekend, I sent her a text to see if she was okay, to see if everything was fine because I didn’t see her at her favorite event of the year. My mind likes to think the worst. The worst case scenario is the most likely scenario in my head. So I thought she had some family emergency or maybe a car problem on her way here like she did a couple years ago, or something of the sort, and the first thing I could do was text her and make sure she was okay. And she was. She sent me a very normal text back and holy moly that was some fuckin relief, man. My chest was tight, my stomach was aching, my anxiety was like “boi she fuckin ded”, so getting that text back letting me know she was okay was the highlight of my weekend lmao. Sure, we’ve been apart for a long-ass time at this point, but I still care about her more than anyone else in my life. I have yet to meet someone and build up that amount of trust and care with someone else, so she’s still at the top of the ladder in my head. She’s still that person who knows me more than anyone, who has heard personal stories that no one else has, etc. So thinking something had happened to her had me worried and nervous all weekend, and getting that text back put me at ease. But to bring it back to the main topic, that was the first time I’ve had proof that my anxiety is fueled by others being okay. My anxiety refused to let me send her any texts or contact her because I didn’t want to feel like I was bothering her or annoying her or that she just didn’t want to hear from me any more, so basically my anxiety was afraid that seeing a text from me would make her unhappy, the opposite of what my anxiety wants. But when my anxiety realized that she could already be unhappy, she might not be okay, it was like “okay yes you need to text her to make sure everything’s alright. If something’s already wrong, your text probably won’t be the cause of her being annoyed or bothered.” So I texted her without thinking about it. And that’s why I’m writing about the cause of my anxiety for the first time, because I finally experienced it first hand. Before yesterday, it was simply a hypothesis my therapist and I shared, but it was definitely proven due to yesterday’s text. And man. Honestly, it felt so nice texting her. Because recently all I’ve wanted to do is talk to her. But of course, now that I know she’s okay, my anxiety is back to “bitch u better not text her, seeing a text from u probably annoys the fuck out of her, she don’t wanna talk to ur bitch ass, she’s been over u for 2 years dumbass.” So that sucks. I would have loved to try to keep the conversation going as much as possible, but my anxiety said otherwise. She mentioned that she was sick and tired from the previous weekend and that’s why she couldn’t make it out. God I wish I could continue the conversation. “Oh, what were you up to last weekend? I didn’t see you in any Coachella posts, was it some other event? I hope you feel better either way, though.” And then she’d text back, and I’d text back, and so on. And I’d just have an actual conversation with her. That would be the best. And reconnecting on social media so I can see updates on her life, all the cool things she’s doing at her company, all the friends she’s around. But that’s not gonna happen. My hypothesis when it comes to contacting her is that she doesn’t want any of it. Me texting her, even if it’s just to have normal, friendly conversation, bothers her. Or makes her uncomfortable. So for now, or basically for forever, I’ll just have to continue imagining conversations until she actually talks to me first, until she starts the conversation, because then my anxiety won’t have to worry about annoying her because she’d be the one initiating. But that’s why I said basically for forever because I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen. Of course, part of me thinks “hey maybe I’ll get a text from her now that I’ve reminded her that I exist by checking up on her this weekend.” But most of me is like “haha. That was your two minutes of fame, bud. When are you ever gonna have an excuse to text her again? And since you can’t text her on a whim because you’re afraid of bothering her, it’s all done now! No more hope!”

Hi kuya lol.

Today I found out that someone I know has actually been reading my posts LMAO so hi kuya ily :)

I also realized that "Keep Reading" doesn't work on mobile, so I apologize to all the mobile users who had to scroll past a fucking mile of text lol.

Well. I'm in slo. And uhhhh. This weekend has actually helped a lot so far. This weekend is reminding me that cool people exist, I do have a friend or two, although not close enough to visit, I at least know they're here and they care. (Once again, hi kuya I'm talking about you) So that's really cool. That makes me pretty happy. Right now I'm supposed to be napping but being here in slo, being here in my old house from last year, where so many memories took place, it's hard to just fall asleep. My mind has been racing since I got here, to be honest. And it's still going. And what's bad is that it's racing so fast that I can't even write them down right now. It's just too much for me to be able to process, pick out certain thoughts to write about or write down, it's just too much. Being here is exhausting for me because of this. I'm mentally exhausted. I'm almost certain that this is the last time I ever spend a weekend in slo. I just can't handle it anymore, really. And the thought of how long ago it was, how long it's been since everything was like it used to be, during my college days, (thinking I was happy) seeing everything as going great. And realizing that nothing was really that great. I was struggling without even knowing it. And I had the best support system here to utilize, close friends and an amazing girlfriend, but I took advantage of neither of those because my mind convinced me so thoroughly that everything was okay and normal. Imagine how different everything would be, in my life in general right now, and my life back then during college, if I had realized something was wrong and actually made an attempt to talk about it to her, or my friends, or get myself to see a mental health professional. Imagine how vastly different my life would be. I'd have different friends, I'd most like live somewhere else, work at a different company, doing a different job, hanging out with different people, be closer with different people, I don't know man. Being here makes my mind go nuts with thoughts, and it's been nearly impossible to handle it. Earlier today I was at Target with my kuya, and I couldn't go inside because I was high and the thought of how intense the nostalgia would be inside that Madonna target was too much for me to contain, because I went there so often with her, we loved target. Which is why being inside this old house is so mentally exhausting for me, because this house was like 80% of the past year. I don't know. I'm thinking about getting a last minute hotel room for tonight so that I don't have to be in this house anymore, and so that I don't have to sleep on a couch, and so that at the end of the night, once I've had all the interaction I can handle (which I've already almost reached and I haven't even gone to the main event yet), I can be alone. And so yes, in regards to my last posts, I brought her old clothes, but couldn't overcome my fear and anxiety to ask her if she'd be willing to talk sometime this weekend, and so I bailed out of getting a hotel room because there was no point in having a place to myself if I wasn't going to use it to talk to her in peace, and so now my chances of ever reconnecting with her for the sake of friendship and having the only person I've ever been comfortable with telling personal things be there as a friend for me, and because she's generally just a great person to have in your life, those chances are out the window and I'm never going to have an opportunity like this again. So I've doomed myself for the next few years. My therapist is going to see a lot of me. Of course there are others I can talk to, like my kuya, but no offense honestly, I'm just not at that same level of comfortability with anyone else, which I hope is understandable. Idk man. I'm just babbling now. I should try to nap. I didn't sleep last night.

I’m back.

Gonna just continue posting on here as if it’s my google drive. I said in the last post that I might not continue posting on tumblr if I felt weird, but I guess I kinda feel alright about it. Anyways. On to my thought-spill.

Today I just wanna rant about habits, and how much I despise them, and how much my therapist has made clear about habits based on my anxiety. Apparently the first sign to myself that I suffer from anxiety has been the way I bite at my fingers. I chew at the cuticles all day whenever my fingers aren’t busy, and I bite my nails probably every other day (just because they don’t grow back nearly as fast as cuticles). I hate this about me, but I literally can’t stop it. I’ve had this habit since I was like 6. Now, I’m not sure how far I can get in each of these posts I make without bringing up my ex, (in my google drive, I have like a 1% success rate of not bringing her up in my daily entries LOL so there’s that, whoops I’m a shit human being who can’t control his mind, whatcha gonna do about it) but clearly not very far on this post. So anyway, the only time in my life, ever, that I have gone more than a day without nibbling at my fingers, was in my first year or two of my relationship with my ex. Back when we actually communicated, I showed her my fingers and explained that it’s been a habit for as long as I can remember that I can’t stop. And she told me to try my best to stop if that’s what I want. And it happened. I stopped. For a long time. And then we started getting into arguments and I started biting again. But that time period, I think it was like anywhere from 6 months to a year, was the only time in my life I’ve ever experienced not subconsciously biting at my fingers or nails. I discussed this with my therapist, and he can’t explain, basically his only possible thoughts on it are that my mind was THAT focused on her rather than anything else that my anxiety usually made my mind race on that I was able to just push away the subconscious habit. He said that kind of stuff doesn’t happen with moderate or severe anxiety, where one of your deadset, lifelong habits can just… go away. He was actually blown away/kinda thought I was lying lmao. But I mean… Now that I look back on it… Damn… I’m blown away, too. That’s wild. I actually went a period of time without nibbling, and it was solely because she told me to stop. At this point I wish I savored those days of not nibbling more, because I honestly can’t stand it. I hate it. It is my most hated habit because I look weird while doing it, I bleed a lot due to it, and my fingers look gross because of it. And when it bleeds, it actually does hurt. Sometimes it hurts a lot. And what’s worse is that because I’ve been doing it all my life, I do it entirely subconsciously, to the point that I actually can’t stop it unless not biting is literally all I’m focused on. Which is IMPOSSIBLE because of my anxiety. My anxiety is causing this habit, AND is making it impossible to prevent this habit. What a fucking combo. And now that my ex is gone from my life, I’ll probably never go another day without nibbling at my fingers. Which sucks. I hate it.

Another bad habit: vaping. Nicotine is weird. It’s honestly so weird to me. Because people who smoke cigarettes or use tobacco products or vape nicotine, the thing there is that it’s addicting, right? Like people get super addicted to this shit. And what’s weird to me is that I can just… not. I can just stop using nicotine whenever I want. And I have no withdrawals, I don’t go crazy, I don’t super hardcore crave it. Of course at first I’m like, eh, some nicotine would be cool right now, but it’s not to the point where it’s like withdrawals. And I mean, I use a LOT of nicotine. I go through like two refills on my tank per day, using 6mg juice, which equates to like… idk I looked it up one time and apparently it’s the equivalent of like a pack a day of cigs or more… But that’s why it’s crazy. A person who uses a pack of cigs a day can’t just stop with no side effects. I can. I haven’t actually talked about this with my therapist, he knows I vape but I’ve never told him that I can just stop whenever. But like, maybe it’s because of my anxiety? Maybe my anxiety is just so strong in terms of making my mind rice and having constant thoughts bothering me that my mind doesn’t even have a chance to think about me missing the nicotine. That’s just a wild guess, but I feel like it’s right. There have been multiple occasions that I’ve just stopped vaping all of a sudden and I have no side effects or withdrawals. Like when my ex and I went to Russia. Just stopped vaping the morning of our flight, and I was chill. And this past summer, I stopped vaping for like 4 full months, and when I first stopped, I stopped on the morning of a cruise with my family, felt no side effects or withdrawals. Idk man, I just… I’m not affected by the addictive part of nicotine. It’s weird. But it’s still a habit that I dislike just because of how horrible of a name vaping has to it. I try to hide it when I’m vaping in my car or in public because I don’t want people to see. Everyone makes fun of people who vape and it makes me feel like shit about it, but I enjoy vaping so… Oh well…

Hi.

This is weird. I haven’t opened this website in probably 3 years. Let me start off by saying this is going to be a very long, jumbled, un-proofread, personal post that I don’t want anyone to read (I know that part makes no sense, but I’ll explain later on), so feel free to continue scrolling past this, thanks. I’m hoping that no one I know or went to college with still uses this website/follows my incredibly inactive tumblr.

Let’s call it The Company. One of the greatest companies in existence to work at, I turned it down. When I applied to The Company, I had no idea what team I’d be interviewing for. When I got there for my interview day (this was about… a week or two after she broke up with me), they tell me I’ll be a part of this relatively new team, excellent for career growth, called the Student team, creating content for students to use, which was great because it was relevant because I had just graduated. Now, I didn’t know what team she was on, I think she told me at one point when she first got the offer, but I didn’t remember. Then it happened: during the third of like 6 1-hour interviews at my interview day, it was lunch, two girls from the team took me out to eat down the street, and we had some casual conversation, and they say “Oh! Do you know Jane Smith?!” Except Jane Smith was replaced with my ex-girlfriend’s name. And on the inside, my heart dropped. On the outside, my smile widened and said “Yeah! She was in my club at college! We’re pretty good friends.” They went on to explain that she recently accepted an offer from the student team and would be starting work in about three weeks and that if I got the position we’d get to work together. “Yay friends!” Ha. Hah. Hahahahha. Yeah. That was by far the best interview day I’ve ever had. Everyone was so fucking cool. And the office was so fucking chill. And everything was god damn perfect. Everyone loved me, 4 out of 6 interviewers told me some form of “I can tell you’d be a perfect fit here, I love talking to you and now I’m excited.” The first interviewer gave me a run-down of the in-house coding language, so there wasn’t much time for bonding, and the last interviewer was the head honcho and was very serious. So those were the only two who didn’t tell me that. I was in love with the company. Yet, on my flight home an hour after all my interviews ended, I prayed to god that I didn’t get an offer. For the first time ever, I hoped and prayed and begged to all the gods in the world that they’d send me that email that says “We’ve gone with someone else, thanks for interviewing!” And I couldn’t believe I was hoping that. A couple weeks go by and I see an email from The Company, and it was the worst news I’ve ever read: I got the job. Fuck. So what did I do? I went downstairs, told my parents they decided to go with someone else, boohoo. Responded to the email telling them thanks, but I’ve decided to move forward with a different company, and then I sent a personal email to one of the dude’s who interviewed me who I clicked with and told them to please tell anyone who knew me who ever asked about me (there were a few on the team, not just her) that I didn’t get an offer and that you guys went with someone with more technical ability. Reason being that the people who I knew who were on the team knew how much I wanted this position. And if those girls who asked about Jane Smith ever asked her about me or I somehow came up in conversation, I didn’t want them to tell her that I declined an offer or anything like that. I wanted to respect her space, privacy, and request to cut all communications until she was ready.

I’ve been living through google drive for the past few years now. Pretty much ever since the incident that sparked my heightened level of anxiety. Because from that point on I couldn’t tell her things. I couldn’t say things that were bothering me because I didn’t want to risk upsetting her. Which is horrible. Communication is the number one most important thing in any relationship. And I refused to do it. I couldn’t do it. I was so anxious any time I had a thought I wanted to share with her that I couldn’t let it out. There was no way I’d risk causing an argument which would lead to a fight which could lead to her walking out on me again. I was mortified of that happening. So mortified of it that I let it control me and ruin my relationship. It was my fault that she didn’t talk to me either. She fed off of my inability and uncomfortability of sharing things with her that she started to do the same. And then we just never spoke about important things. And I’ll never forgive myself for that. I single-handedly brought down my relationship, the best thing that has ever happened to me. My mental illness that I refused to acknowledge and get help for ruined everything. Do I regret it all? Of fucking course. If I had acknowledged it or forced myself to explain to her why I was having trouble communicating, we could, like I said, be together today, working together and being happy as ever. I dreamed of it. I wished for that. It could have happened if my mind wasn’t a piece of shit. My life would be set. Working a dream job in my dream location with my dream girl. But of course, my therapist brought to my attention that it’s not possible to regret something I couldn’t help. It’s literally a mental disorder. It’s like when people tell others who have depression to “just get over it” or “just think of something happy” or “just do something that makes you happy,” I can’t “just think of something else” or “just do something that distracts me” or “just go out and talk to new people.” It’s not something I can control, it’s not something I can just get over, it’s not something I can just turn off. It controls me, and I’ve been working on flipping that around. And I’ve gotten a lot better. My therapist has helped so god damn much. I feel like a completely different person. I really am a completely different person. I feel like… Well… I feel like who I was before the traumatic incident occurred. I feel like Brandon Ray Fucking Dimaya, the guy who everyone loves and adores and wants to hang out with and talk to and thinks is hilarious and intelligent. But the problem is that I have no one to show that to. I have no friends to show that to. I have no way of getting myself out there and having people around me that I can make laugh and think I’m great and get myself back on my feet. I’m stuck in this bottomless pit until I can find a way to get back out there and meet people. And it sucks because I have dreams literally about 4 out of 7 nights of the week that are either about her, and us being in a happy relationship again, and everything being perfect, and how amazing she is, or about hanging out with friends and having a good time. And then I wake up, and I’m depressed. It’s really bringing me down. My dreams about her are my favorite, honestly. I love when I dream about her because they’re always about us back together or me making her happy. And I mean of course she’s also an entirely different person by now, being a working woman for like 7 or 8 months, living in a different area, being completely independent, being away from me, actually able to grow because I’m not there holding her back anymore, but I’m pretty sure if I was near her, I’d still be just as in love with her as I was when I wrote that google doc that I linked up there. Highkey still wanna eat her out for 20 minutes to an 8tracks playlist cause she’s the most beautiful god damn work of art I’ve ever laid eyes upon, and I mean damn the first two years of our relationship before shit hit the fan and I stopped communicating with her, our sex life was fuckin awesome holy shit, but that’s a different topic. I’m getting sidetracked again. I mean all of this post is sidetrack upon sidetrack so whatever. I also just realized that that google doc has her name in it so calling her Jane Smith earlier was kinda pointless. Oh well, like I said I’m banking on the fact that no one will read this anyway. Where was I. I don’t know. Not even scrolling up is really helping. Now I’m kinda distracted because I am a sexually frustrated young adult lmao. Okay back on track. I got this. Think. What was I saying. What else is there to say. This is a longass fuckin post god damn. But for real tho, bruh I took my old roommates’ advice (one of whom still goes to calpoly and one of whom has recently had the fucking pleasure of moving to her town and working at the same company as her so that’s something I’m fuckin jealous about, that coulda been me 8 months ago lol whoops thanks anxiety) to follow ABG’s on instagram, and they recommended a bunch to me, but when I see them and all their 500k followers drooling over how hot they look, in my head I’m legit like “hmmm…. Yeah nah she was definitely way more attractive than these instagram models.” which is CRAZY. That’s NUTS. I was dating someone who I found more attractive than these asian girls that literally make a living posting pictures on social media because they’re considered to be hot as fuck??? And a fucking mental disorder and my own stupid decisions made me lose her??? How much does my life suck??? A lot is the answer!!! Good answer!!! Very much!!! Wait oh my god that was not back on track. BACK ON TRACK. And yes this is how all my google docs go where I write to myself and get my thoughts out. They’re all just a bigass jumble of all my erratic thoughts about anything and everything. And I think they tend to get crazier and crazier as the length goes on because I’m slowly realizing I’m just talking to myself and typing out thoughts that I already know and have thought about so typing them out serves no purpose but for some reason it feels like I’m getting shit off my chest and it’s helping so whatever. It also appears that I have given up on starting new paragraphs. That tends to happen in each google doc as well.

Speaking of which, friends: I have none, really. Which fucking sucks. And has made these past 7 or 8 months so much worse than they’ve had to be. I have no one to hang out with and talk to down here in socal. Everyone I went to college with is having a fucking blast up in the bay, hanging out with each other all the time and having fun and loving life. I turned that opportunity down because I couldn’t handle the thought of how my ex-girlfriend would react to me being on the same team as her at the same company. She’d hate my guts. She’d think I was doing my best to stalk her or follow her wherever she goes. That wasn’t even the case, which sucks. It was an amazing company, an amazing opportunity, in the bay near all my friends. And I gave all that up because I respected her too much. I respected her wishes to be left alone, to cut communications, to burn all bridges. I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t show up to the place she worked where she would have to see me almost every single day while she was trying to move on from the thought of me. And I’m pretty sure she has. I’m pretty sure she’s been over me since like a year or two before she ended things. I could feel it, but I was still so in love with her that it didn’t get to me. She’s probably found some other love interest already. She probably doesn’t think about me anymore. Which would be absolutely normal. That’s such a normal human being thing to do. It’s been like 8 months for god’s sake. But for me, I haven’t gone a single day without thinking about her still. Which sucks. It fucking sucks. Having this whole severe anxiety shit to deal with fucking sucks. I can’t go a day without thinking about her even if I wanted to. And I do want to. If she’s moved on from me and meeting other people, I want to be doing the same. But I fucking can’t. Because that’s how my fucking mind works. And I can’t stand it. But I have no one to talk to, to distract me from my thoughts, to get over this shit. I’m trapped. I’m lost. And most days I don’t know what to do about it. I just wish I could go back. Go back to how things were before my anxiety went up a notch. Back when I always wanted to hang out with people and talk to people and people felt the same way about me and I loved everything and I made everyone laugh and shit like that.

Which kinda brings me to the last thing I feel like talking about, because this has been really long, and because I got so immersed in typing out my thoughts as I usually do that I forgot this was on tumblr. This weekend, I’ll be visiting my college town, seeing friends again. Luckily I’ve had plenty of time to mentally prepare for that, so I’m ready to see some buddies and chill and talk. However, there is one thing that I’ve had almost like 5 months now to prepare myself for, and I’m still not prepared for it, which is once again being in the same area as my ex-girlfriend. The last time I went up there, I mentally prepared myself, I was so ready for it, I was so ready for the moment I’d see her. And when it happened, it all started going as I thought it would, my heart started fucking pounding out of my chest because she looked gorgeous, I smiled, got up out of my seat, and as I was getting up to go say hi to her like a normal person would, maybe give her a hug and ask how she’s been, I look up and she completely curves me. She pretends I don’t exist, walks over to some other people, and starts laughing and chatting it up with them. I tried to get a chance to say hello to her by the end of the event, but she successfully avoided me the entire time. I was crushed. I was absolutely shattered, disheartened. All that mental preparation was for nothing. And the worst part is, I didn’t mentally prepare myself for THAT. So going back to my friend’s place after the event, I had to work so hard to not just burst into tears. It was horrible. It was basically the only reason I came into town that weekend, was my chance at having an interaction with her. To have her completely dodge that interaction as I approached her was just terrible. It destroyed me. It destroyed my mental state. My anxiety blew up. So this time, I’ve mentally prepared myself for BOTH outcomes, or at least tried to, I’m pretty sure I’m still not completely ready for it, but it’s this weekend and my time is up. Wait that wasn’t even my last point, I got sidetracked again. For reals, last point.

With the college town weekend coming up, I’ve been trying to get myself for the past month to text her and ask if she’s going, and if she is, if she’d be willing to meet up and talk for a while, so I could tell her all this, tell her what I’ve been going through, and try to get her to understand that I’m not a piece of shit. I also have some of her clothes that I’m pretty sure she’d want cause they’re pretty nice (one of them is like a bunch of super cute superheroes and baymax, and I know she loved that sweater because she used to wear it all the time). But now, the weekend is in a couple days, and I still haven’t asked her. And at this point, in my head it’s too late to ask her because I’m sure she’d need a couple days to mentally prepare for something like that herself. So now I’m fucked, it’s too late, and I’m never gonna talk to her again. So there’s that. But seriously, I really, really, really wanted to. I just couldn’t calm my thoughts enough to do so. I couldn’t get all the negative outcomes out of my head. There were so many possibilities. If I texted her, asking her if she’d be willing to come to my hotel room, or sit in the back of my car, or just go somewhere isolated to talk and have a real conversation about what I’ve been going through, who in their right mind would say yes to that? Coming from their ex-partner from like 8 months ago? She probably wants nothing to do with me, she probably doesn’t even think about it anymore, she probably doesn’t even care. But the problem is, I do. I want a chance to explain myself, and apologize for what a fucking failure of a person, boyfriend, and friend I was, and tell her that I’m a better person now, that I’m working on it, and that I would love to be friends. I know that she probably thinks nothing of it now that it’s been so long, but I still think about it every single day, and I feel like I will until I’ve told her face to face. That’s just how my mind works. I want to tell her all this stuff so that she can see that I really want to keep her in my life. I want her as someone I can talk to. She’s the most comforting person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and having her to talk to during these times would be the best thing ever. I mean, for the first two years of our relationship, she virtually made my anxiety disappear. My first year, I was shy, I barely talked to anyone because I was afraid of all these new people. Then my second year, I met her, and I completely came out of my shell, I became that awesome person that people loved. Her presence alone cured my anxiety. We talked all the time. Until sunrise a lot of times. About everything and anything. She’s the first person in my life I’ve ever really opened up to. I felt so comfortable telling her personal things. And I feel like if I had the chance to explain to her what I’ve been going through and we go back to being friends, that comfortability would come right back and I’d actually have someone to fall back on, someone to talk to, someone to help me through this process of getting used to knowing I have a mental illness. Having the mental illness all my life, and actually knowing I have it, are two very different experiences, because knowing I have it is now making everything about my life make sense. Which scares me. And she’s the first person that comes to mind who I would want to confide my trust in with something like this. And not only that, but she’s also just a great person to talk to in general, and we have so much in common, I have games I want to share with her, music I want to share with her, shows and movies I want to talk to her about, food I want to show her, tell her I’ve made, there’s just so much normal stuff that I’d love to talk to her about, because all of our interests and hobbies are pretty much the same. I think that’s why before I became this shelled up, anxious piece of shit, we were such a perfect couple. Everything she likes, I like, and vice versa. We loved spending our time the same way. We loved eating the same things, listening to the same stuff, playing the same kind of games. Everything was perfect, and we were best friends. Of course, I’m not asking for that stuff again, I’m just asking for a friend in general. That’s what I need, honestly. Is a friend. It wouldn’t be me asking her to meet up so we could talk just to catch up, or just to mend things, it would be more of a plea for help from me to her. Anyway, I then thought about the outcomes of her actually saying yes. If she for some reason actually agreed to meet with me in private to talk, there were so many negative possible outcomes. What if she gets there, and I can just tell she doesn’t actually want to be there, or I can tell she’s not really listening, or not believing what I’m saying. Or what if she gets there and thinks I’m awkward as fuck now, and doesn’t enjoy talking to me. Or what if I’m talking to her, and I can feel her getting annoyed that I’m rambling on and on because I can’t stop myself from doing that. What if I burst into tears and she doesn’t know what to do and she just ends up leaving. All of these things would be worse than her saying no, because I’d feel like I fucked up my shot at regaining the most important friendship I’ve ever had. Basically if I don’t find a way to get myself to text her and ask her by like… Thursday night. It’s over. I’m done for. I’ll be thinking about this shit for probably another year or two every day, and it’ll ruin the next few years of my life. And the sad part is, that’s like 80% going to happen. I honestly can’t see myself gathering the courage to ask her. And even if I miraculously do, and she miraculously says yes, I still haven’t fully prepared for the actual conversation. I’m probably not going to be able to look her in the eyes when we’re talking because I used to not be able to because looking her in the eyes made me so nervous because her eyes are insanely pretty and it made me nervous talking to someone that I found so attractive, that’ll happen all over again, but this time it’ll be the nervousness of such an attractive person, on top of my anxiety of talking to her again. And then I’ll fumble over all my words like an idiot and she’ll think I’m dumb. I just want her to remember me for who I was in the first few years of the relationship, and then understand why I was that shitty boyfriend for the last year and a half or so. I don’t want her to think of me as the worst possible boyfriend who never talked to her whenever she thinks about me. I don’t want all her thoughts about me to be negative. And that’s even if she does think about me ever. I don’t know what to do. I have no clue how to go about this, and it’s in just a few days. I have no one to help me do this, no one to motivate me to do this, no one to talk me through the process of doing this. I have no one. I have nothing. I need someone. I need a friend. I need her. I need to stop typing.

unclefather

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