Scarcity of me

I have feelings and I like to vomit them as words. Angst and rambly metaphors. Ye be warned. /Side-blog for my bad days/

[mournfulroses]

Simone de Beauvoir, from a diary entry featured in Diary of a Philosophy Student

[podencos]

[rueingthings]

I don't know how to explain this to others so I am going to start by trying to explain it to myself. When you have endured cyclical, long term depressive episodes for almost all of your adult life, sadness becomes a positive emotion. I kind of fucking love sadness, and I've noticed what I can only call a kind of defence mechanism I deploy at an instinctive awareness of worse dangers to come. Not always, which is how I know its deeper than just "get over yourself" because there's been plenty of myself I have had to simply get over and this is not that. Because let's say when its a "normal" cycle of not-depression but perhaps stress of some sort, sadness in me annoys me. I think well here we fucking go again, I don't have time for this. When I'm in rare periods of clarity and peace, sadness is just a nice excuse to have a good old cry and I enjoy the feeling of emotional lightness afterwards and the next day I may clear forget the episode or what triggered it even. But when its in one of transitional phases entering a depressive cycle, or deep into one, I welcome sadness with paradoxical joy. It feels so good to feel something that isn't the terror of blankness and despair. I reach for sadness to pull me out of that despair and its often worked. I'll play Fade Into You by Mazzy Star and if I cry, its a good fucking sign I'll be okay. The worst is when I don't cry. When I keep cycling through things and activities, hail mary exercise or scrolling for insta dopamine, and nothing works its like mental diarrhea, I can feel it all clanking around in the emptiness inside before being expelled painfully and too much of anything creates a kind of infectious pain that is very very far removed from sadness. Its an existential horror because I become extremely coldly analytical about who and what I am, starting with the usual I am a massive loser etc stuff but then ending at the much worse space of nothing matters, nothing matters, nothing matters, the universe is indifferent, there's nothing behind everyone's eyes and mine too and the hope itself of anything remotely meaningful to ever happen ceases to exist. The chasm between my mind and others feel infinitely impassable. Panic flutters inside me as I escape and escape from the thing nipping at my heels and all the time its right there waiting to swallow me.

The solution to that, not a lucky chance that shakes me out of it or some inexplicable trigger that gets the brain dopamine flowing again, no, the only observable actionable solution that has ever worked for me is to be seen. Really seen. To have someone look at me and say, you are human. You are here. I see you, I am with you. This is all real and so is the past and so is the future and things do matter. Just a tangible touch of someone looking right at you with acceptance and kindness...do you know how rare that is, how truly fucking rare that is...and how heart rendingly beautiful when I get it....but the hack I think if I can figure out how to do this properly, the hack is when you become that someone. When you can look at yourself and extend that understanding and acceptance to your own self, then you are never truly alone. I suppose this is what religious people call faith, thats what they use to keep terror at bay. But you aren't alone. Your past selves stand with you, your future selves too. We all care. This matters, so does tomorrow. Writing in this way is one method to try and express myself, to make myself into a real person again. Am I real girl yet?

[welcometothe11thhouse]

what are ur thoughts on virgo sun girls 💭

some of the bossiest bitches if they have aries and leo placements. but generally, they can be the most uplifting people

they are one of the few signs that i actually find funny when they get heated. their rants are 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻to listen to bc it’s always something that is SOOO relatable but you just couldn’t pinpoint exactly why it pissed you off

but a VIRGO can 🙌🏻 that mercury wit really comes out when they get annoyed, i think that’s why it can be kinda fun to troll a virgo lmao

[rueingthings]

when does this melancholia stop? when do i get to just stop being trapped in my own head? i feel broken and sometimes its like a relief because i remember how painful the breaking was and at least, now that i'm already in pieces, i can't shatter again. being ground into dust is quite quiet and quite painless. drifting away into a wind...i keep getting smaller and smaller and all the time the pain gets smaller too. the amazing, truly shocking part is that the only thing that doesn't die is the world in my head. its still the cornerstone of my being, the happiest corner of my mind, one i can clamber on to every now and then and escape it all. its more real to me than everything else, it has to be, and i keep thinking, if i put it down and put it out, then it WILL be real, but when i actually attempt it, what happens is that any piece of my imagination is like stars in Stardust...in the real world, they become ashes and dust, a slightly sparkly collection of rubbish, a world apart from the wonder they gleamed with in my head. its been a cope to understand and accept this truth: "becoming a writer" isn't going to fix anything, or solve anything, or suddenly fill my life with joy. like anything i do, it will likely multiply the pain because i am walking on a bed of nails and every movement hurts. but it doesn't matter, maybe the point of writing is only that i have this drive and i have to fulfill it, like eating or drinking or sex.

so many explanations and reasons, so many gains and losses, so many medicines and breakdowns, at the end of it all, i keep coming back to this reality where i am just gently and slowly failing at happiness.

when i think of all the mes i have lost, all the happinesses i have touched and forgotten, burnt in my mistakes, i feel a powerful longing to be anyone, anyone, other than me...yet its a lie, because what i want really is to BE me, the real me, the one i feel entitled to and have failed to be...maybe precisely because i prefer the reality in my head to the one in the real world...is this fantastical imagination my saviour from a terrible fate? or is it my sly captor that has skilfully led me right into the terrible fate while pretending to save me? or is it something in between?

and the terrible horrible truth is, it doesn't matter to me. i DON'T want to get better at any cost. if the cost to pay for getting healthy is loosing my imagination, my inner world, my creativity and my secret, selfish, inaccessible, delusional little joys, then I...then I...don't want it.

[rueingthings]

feeling really anxious and tired of waiting. its been a long life and still a long way to go. every now and then it feels like i want to stop.

[butchviking]

i hate being a mentally ill adult actually. i hate that there’s always groceries to be bought and housekeeping to do and work in the morning i hate that we have no space to feel it all i hate that we walk around acting normal. there are so many people i know who are clearly deeply unhappy with their lives and we make silly little jokes that allude to it but sometimes i want to grab them by the shoulders and scream ‘i know you are miserable!! we can’t keep living like this!! this is why people break!!’ im sick of this drudgerous apathy i want us all to be dramatic like when we were teenagers i want us to sob together and scream bloody murder at each other and tell each other we want to kill ourselves not as a funny post-ironic joke but because we all feel like that sometimes!! i want us to get fucked up on god knows what til we can’t open our eyes i want us to take care of each other instead of always taking care of ourselves i want us to be vulnerable i want us to hold each others hands in the ambulance!!

[teethed-tale]

I’m doing this with you right now

[rueingthings]

Anyway I had a good couple of weeks but now I'm. Morose and sad and terrified of the future again. Existence is a curse. My brain is torture. Etc. October will end soon and so will my fleeting joys. Joys are so treacherous aren't they? I want to be 12 again. 12 and foolhardy and believing I could be happy one day inspite of everything. I want to be attached to the core of me, I want to be the captain of my brain and body, I want to feel something other than confusion and doubt.

I don't think I'll ever be different than I am. This... Is it. It's not going to change. I move to a different country, change my job, change my friends, and there it is again, that sinking feeling of hopelessness and total loss of control over my impulses. I'm governed by some demon who lays traps for me at every turn, and catches me in my own worst sins, again and again, until I'm too tired to fight anymore. I lay down in his traps, just glad to have some kind of place to sleep. When will he leave, I think. But I know deep down he never will.

It's better not to think or feel or reflect or analyze. I'm now just going to live day to day. Action to action. Pick up and try again. Stop and start again. Just do the next thing. Even if its the same thing another way.

[konoko]

[rueingthings]

Dadi passed away.

I was devastated initially. For like the first 15 mins I was overwhelmingly guilty and sad and depressed and panicky and alone and the world felt empty and pointless. Then I had some wine and spoke to my mom and I'm okay now. I think I've successfully repressed it which I think is a great strategy because I know processing it is going to be the most painful thing I've ever done. And I can't. I just can't right now.

Here's to you Dadi. You were the best grandmother a girl could ask for, every sunlit summer spent with you is gilded in gold as a happy childhood memory, and for that I can never thank you enough. For your love, your overwhelming, overflowing love and affection, that even i could never for a second doubt, for the bounties of affection you gave me, the bone crushing hugs, the loving pet names, the wet kisses, the way your voice lit up whenever i called and the way you cared about me, often to the point of irking me, and never gave up on doing everything you believed was necessary for my happiness. For the kulfis and custards and puddings. For the jokes and the laughter and the gossip. For the forgiveness - no matter what I did - for the way you never ever stopped believing in me and thinking I was the dogs whiskers even when I so clearly wasn't. For the ugly clothes and the pretty jewelry, for the way you met me half way and for the way you stuck to your opinions even when they were wrong, for the way you had a zest for life even when depressed, for the round cheeked smile and the large forehead, for your open, free, laughter that I will never ever ever ever forget. You fought and you were old fashioned, and you said things, and I said things, but you always forgave me and it wasn't a stunting forgiveness, it was always fully and freely given, a gift so rare as I've learnt recently.

Thank you.

[rueingthings]

There's this one emotion. It hits like a physical blow in my chest and then I ache and ache and ache and ache with no relief. Is it nostalgia? Home sickness? People sickness is more like it. People are what make a home. People are what constitute your memories and your joys. People are what you miss. And everything always ends. At least every happiness I've ever had had ended eventually. Every bit of belonging and love and affection. And I've never even ever been able to fully enjoy those moments while I'm in them, because I could never see them for what they are. If blame must be placed, it lies with me. The restless in my soul agitates me like the devil in the details. That's why I'm always moving, moving, moving, running away. Always planning a move. Always half ahead and half behind and always running. Every time I promise myself : this time I will live in the moment. And every time my confusion blocks me from making the most of everything. Why can't I ever find the right balance? Why do I think so much? Everything is always thoughts, circles, angles, analysis. I just. For once. Want to live like I belong, like I belong to the people, to the place, to that time. I want to feel settled in my core. Isn't it enough now? How much harder do I have to try? Is everything always miserable forever and ever? Does it always return to this status quo in my brain? Then why should I not end it?

There's one thing left to try and I have great hopes for it. I must find a purpose beyond myself. Myself is clearly not cutting it vis a vis motivation to live. What can I do to help the world? What can I do to follow my convictions and do what's right? This is the next step for me.

[rueingthings]

You know what's hard? Separating who you want to be from who other people want you to be and who you think other people want you to be and then figuring out who you actually CAN be like realistically

[rueingthings]

Okay. Job done. Officially fired due to unemployment.

Depression.

[rueingthings]

5.30 pm call scheduled to get yelled at and possibly suspended or fired.

Yayyy life.

[rueingthings]

Wow i actually. Was fired.

As much as I suspected it I didn't really expect it

Devasted and so ashamed right now. Already panicking about everything.

Serious identify crisis - begin!

[rueingthings]

5.30 pm call scheduled to get yelled at and possibly suspended or fired.

Yayyy life.

[rueingthings]

Okay so there's a part of me that's cruel and vengeful and malicious and sadistic, that comes out in full force when I'm angry and more specifically, when my sense of justice or my ego is offended. And I think somewhere along the way I thought I'd left that part of me behind, that girl who was labelled "scary spice" by my male classmates and wore the title with pride, who made more than 1 other girl cry via acts of petty revenge fuelled bullying and felt not much remorse for it (she started it!!! I NEVER start shit but I do finish it).

And I was wondering is that girl really gone? What's my moral trajectory and how do I feel about it?

Now, the things that piss me off, aka my specific triggers aren't what most people would expect them to be for someone like me. In addition to this, I've worked really hard on myself to curb the expression of my anger and appear uniformly calm no matter what I'm feeling. Due to this most people have an impression of me as a calm, friendly, "nice" person, an optimist and peace maker who gets along with everyone and avoids confrontation. And like it may be true, the list of things and people I simply do not give a shit about is EXTREMELY long and varied, and when I don't give a shit I just will do whatever you know? I'm lazy, I'll avoid talking about contentious issues I don't care about either way. I'm socially awkward so I'll just avoid the people who are source of drama or hostility. I'm a leaf blowing in the wind of life.

But if you try to start shit with me. If you try to piss me off. I will come full tilt AT YOU. And all my laziness and social awkwardness has given me skills. I'm finely attuned to people's weaknesses and can read body language very well - so I'll destroy you with one cruel sentence. I also don't give a shit. When I'm angry I have no limits. I will say anything, do anything, to win the argument and destroy you. I'm feral and savage and I've badly hurt people due to this side of me.

And the only shame I feel is for the hurt I've caused towards people I loved - because they didn't deserve it, because love distorts everything, if magnifies anger and hurt, and its led me, in the past, to take people for granted and treat them with disrespect. That, I regret.

But if you're some random bitch coming at me with your malice, thinking I'm a great target because I'm some submissive chubby Asian girl who is too shy to fight back?? You got a surprise coming!

And I want a man who will love this feral side of me just as much as my refined, mature, wise side. I contain multitudes and you better appreciate them all!!!

[rueingthings]

Anyway in a predictable twist the 5 mins at a time strategy WORKED as I found out the major fuck up I thought I'd made wasn't really a major fuck up on my part, just a miscommunication, and boy am I PHEWWW but like moral of the story is I care wayyyyyyyyyy WAYYYYY too much what other people think and about work, like I NEED to find my chill somewhere or else this whole living a life on earth thing is not going to work out

(can you tell im on a mood swing lol)