I've got nowhere to go so here I am, as if in my teenaged angst once more, writing my way out of the emotions I'm feeling. Let me start by saying how much I hate that I have to use "I" or "me" or "myself" to distinguish this life I'm inhabiting. Because even if the feelings seem visceral, the experience is like plunging into swimming pool water and watching the events unfold as the chlorine stings.
I have no friends. At least, in the sense that I've no one I can readily talk to. At least, in the sense that I've no one who I won't feel bad telling them I am going through shit and I don't want to be alone. At least, in the sense that I don't have to downplay what I'm actually going through in hopes of not sounding so self-centered and weak.
So, here I am... writing this instead of doing actual work or something. At a time where we're all fucked and should be mourning humanity, I hurt not because of bigger things but because of things directly affecting me. Add in the cycle of mania and paranoia and anxiety and depression and just being numb altogether.
Most of the time, I have this indifference as an agnostic that I am but there are times like this where I have to gather myself as close as I can to acknowledge that I am battered with whatever life hurls at me. And with the persistence of agnosticism, I cannot find any solace in whatever people partake nor could I let myself fall into the habit of the things that I did to cope. When did I become so careful? So soft that I have to take responsibility of making sure this body, this life, this self... wouldn't fall apart as fast as I've always thought?
I want to spill out my guts and spell out all that's bothering me. Maybe that would make people listen or y'know, find out I'm not good in the head. I wonder if I do a good job functioning as what I deem is normal. Or if people just let me be as long as I have something to give--nevermind something to take.
Like I've said, I hate having to use "I" or "me" or "myself" because I, whatever part of me that's writing this, feel like this whole person that I am are made up of parts that didn't do a good job consolidating with each other. I don't even know if they exist... I haven't heard of them nor feel them wherever. I just think I'm fragmented but also all alone in this being. I wonder if they're wondering as well.
To be clear, I don't think it's a case of DID. I'm not exactly in charge of my memory but I can access important ones nonetheless. I am still the one reacting, talking, working, figuring things out, whatever it is. But don't entirely relate to this body/person. I do not like what I see in the mirror because I don't think that it is me. I do not like pictures because I can't reallly recognize myself in them. They freak me out. I don't like my voice because it doesn't feel mine. I feel like this words are mine. I feel like this pain is mine... but how come I get that?
I don't trust that you understand what I;m ranting about. I rarely understand myself and it takes a long time for the pieces to click. I rarely trust people but I somehow have an innate urge to let them in and fuck me over because that's the only way I can tell that I really shouldn't trust people. I hate this banged up barometer I have.
It's like, here: you can't trust anyone but your moral compass will try to negate that because you think you're such an open-minded person. you think you're trying your best to be a better person. You think. You know you're just full of shit. Of guilt in having to live this life while there could have been other consciousness more deserving of this time.
I digress. All I wanted was to vent the events that has led me to this ache that I'm trying to process. I've been trying to build up the courage to write it but I don't want to burden whoever would read this--if there would be. Still, I don't think it'd be a good idea since it concerns other people. Moral compass yells it wouldn't be fair to them. As if fairness has been valued lately. We're all just a bunch of assholes who think we're better than the other.
I have this image in my head that flashes every chance it could get. It's a novel way to tie a noose in a room where there aren't much to hang or material to fashion it from. I haven't really gone into the specifics but it's there. I wonder if it'll hold up. In real life or just, you know, persistently in this head. all the things I'm feeling can't be put into words right now. Or I'm just really really overwhelmed.. yknow like how a negative and a negative turns into a positive? then out comes another negative and it returns to negative and add in another negative... etc etc etc
I'm positively tired of it.
