I keep coming back but god I feel so different. My feed is abandoned, nobody follows me except porn bots.
I am grateful that the pandemic hasn’t affected me more. But in some ways, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.
My friends have scattered across the country and I was never good at phone calls. I’m trying to make the texts happen but letting some important ones slide, I think. The friends that have stayed have children so it’s like they moved away for 18 years.
I’m engaged and it doesn’t feel real.
My work doesn’t feel real either. I’ve been exclusively WFH for 22 months and I’ve gone from extremely busy bed-laptop-bed life to basically wrapping up a workflow and having nothing on the horizon until I make a lateral move. I’m also considering getting my MBA.
I don’t feel like myself. I’m more anxious in social situations. I feel like I’ve been wearing a mask forever. I gained 15lbs and I’m more self-conscious.
I consume media to escape. I don’t even read the books that I used to because I can’t handle one more story about painful family relationships or the absolute tragedy that is late-stage capitalism. The news is too much.
But in some ways it’s a little more clear what I want, even if I’m not doing anything about it.
My MBA to prove to myself that I am quantitative.
I want to play music again.
I want to write something I’m pleased with and have others read it.
I want to decide whether or not I want children and how that’s going to happen.
I want to be satisfied with my body.
I want to feel like I have a community.
I wonder who next stage Elizabeth is. I woke up as someone different and I can’t remember either.