#prsonal

[lambofkhalaa]

Tukblr stop giving me chat ai ads every 3 posts please

[destiny7]

لقيتها نايمه بدلع كدا قولت اصورها 😍..لما شافتني قامت جاتلي ☺️♥️

[give-soup-please]

An explanation

Okay, I've gotten to a stable enough place now where I can explain what's been going on. A series of events and circumstances have made it very hard to write recently. For the record, if anyone's worried, I am safe, and alive. But my body is a mess.

(warning. long post, discussions of religious trauma, and upbringing. triggering content under the cut.)

So I finished moving into my college dorm recently, right? Everything has been transported from my old location to my new one. But, it came at a high cost. It involved going back and forth between my car and my new dorm several times during 100+ degree weather. My new location is hotter than my old location, which, given that it's California, does me no favors. Check out the weather for this week.

YIKES.

So the first day of my move in, I lugged several boxes around, an estimated 200 pounds of stuff, over hot tarmac and through the resident halls. After that, I went shopping, because I essentially have to build my apartment from scratch. All that was included was a fridge, an oven, a desk, a couch, and a bed. All the little things I took for granted in my old living spaces, trash cans, shower curtains, pots and pans, all the little appliances and gadgets and plates and bowls and everything one needs to have a nice living situation.

I bought a crapload of stuff. Then, I went grocery shopping because the fridge was empty and the drive was far enough that I couldn't transport food from one location to the next. All in 105+ degree weather. I'm on my own, I have no roommates, I'm doing all the literal and figurative heavy lifting while I get myself set up.

The next day, I did almost the exact same thing. I went shopping 3 times for different items in terrible weather.

The day after that... I did it again. Three more shopping trips, heavy lifting, and heat exhaustion. If you'd like to call me a fool at this point, I wouldn't blame you.

On top of that, the tap water where I live is terrible, so I've also had to buy gallons of water in bulk and lug those around. I've stocked up for the week ahead, because- good lord, this hot weather is killer. At the time of this sentence, it's 7PM and 107 out. You have my promise, whatever it's worth, that everything I'm telling you is actually real. On top of that, I've moved far enough away from everyone I know that there's no one I can call over and have them lend a hand. This isn't a 'I will never see my friends again' thing, it's a 'few people are available to drop everything and make a major commute out to see me and help.'

And between all of this, I was also writing and posting.

On the fourth night, I don't know what happened, but my best guess is that everything caught up with me at once. I was washing dishes one moment, then I had a hard time catching my breath the next. I leaned against the sink heavily, and couldn't do anything. I could not move. I stumbled to bed and collapsed for a while. And I've struggled with basic tasks ever since.

The other problem I have is due to the way I was conditioned as a kid. Any and all spare energy is supposed to be devoted to tasks. Even this morning, I ended up screwing myself over in the long run.

'Hmm. I have some energy again. Fantastic! I'll clean the oven!' - the thought process of the utterly deranged. (me)

So let's tally up everything.

The stress of moving and the anxiety of beginning another chapter of life

Hot weather and a lot of heavy lifting

Seeing loved ones less

Refusing to take breaks

Trauma based thinking (which I'll get into in a moment)

Turning my favorite hobby into a 'must work' thinking pattern

Classes starting soon

Refusal to disappoint others by taking time off of writing

Extreme anxiety tendencies

I haven't finished unpacking due to the above things, so the apartment is a mess.

Folks, that is the perfect storm for severe burnout, if there ever was one.

Now I'm going to tell you why this is happening. I've got pretty decent self insight, and I know how this combination happened. I don't go into detail about my past often, because I generally like to keep this blog a pleasant place. It's also why drama from inside the inbox doesn't get published. That being said, and i'm bastardizing the phrase here,

An explanation isn't always for the reader. Sometimes we (the writers) need to parse out our thoughts as well.

Underneath the cut, I'm going to talk about my upbringing, and the cause of current thought patterns. (tw: emotional abuse, religious trauma)

So when I was a kid, my parents were very intense about making sure I was a hard worker. I was always pushed to do more, even when at my limit. Even when I, as a small child, needed breaks, I was always spurred on to do more, to work harder. The only time something I did was acknowledged, was if it was related to work. Even then, this wasn't a guarantee. I remember one time, I got 99% on a science project, and I received a lecture about missing out on that one percent. One time, I got 100% on an Economics project, but because I wasn't the only one who ended up with 100%, my work was discarded because it wasn't 'unique' or 'important enough'. My mom tutored me through my math classes, then took credit for me passing them, claiming it was her good teaching that allowed me to succeed, and that I had nothing to do with my grade. That's three examples out of a hundred.

Hey, uh- that's pretty fucked up, isn't it?

So when you're conditioned to see work as your only value, a lot of bad things can happen. You start pushing yourself, even when no one's around to do the pushing. That's what's happening now. I'm not going to be punished if I take a day off, or don't get everything done on a to do list, but that's not what my brain shouts at me.

Now let's talk about religion. I grew up in a very restrictive religious background, and religion was often used to make me work harder as well. I remember going to church camps and being told stuff like, laziness is a sin, idle hands are the devil's workshop, and the several hundred bible verses there are about working as much as you can. So when you grow up with the belief that taking time off and relaxing is morally wrong, you wind up with a huge complex. It's a Christian's duty to abstain from feeling good, and to work themselves to death. Or at least, that's the message I grew up with.

Here's the kicker. There's a severe generational thing hanging over me as well. My father's father, and his father, and his father, and so on, all died the same way. All roughly in their sixties, from a stress induced heart attack. Talk about a legacy.

If anyone's familiar with the bible, and has a passing familiarity with Genesis, there's a verse that sticks out.

On the seventh day of creation, God rested.

God can take a day off. So should I. But you didn't come here for a religious discussion.

Point being, I burned myself out for no reason. Again, there is no one here except me. I will no longer be hurt if I rest, I will no longer be punished for taking a day off. And yet- and yet-

I keep doing it. Every single scrap of energy I regain goes into fixing up the apartment. Cleaning the oven this morning- I mean, really? I was exhausted after it was done and dropped into bed for three hours afterwards.

And I just feel so sad about my situation. We have ten days til I'm meant to stop, and I wanted to spend them writing for you guys. I wanted so very much to keep producing as much as I could. But I'm not in a position to do that right now. I love this community so much. So much. You guys have no idea how deeply my love for this community runs. I said in a personal post a few months ago that I don't love casually. With real people or with fictional characters, it's at 100% or nothing. I am not a lukewarm person.

All jets go, all the time. I've never been able to work out a way to slow down before.

I remember when my brother dropped me off for therapy because I didn't have a car of my own back then. He looked at me sardonically and said, "Why can't you just be better?" and to this day, I still don't know.

I hesitate to bring it up, but- The nature of the internet means anyone can read this, not just friends and followers. Everything I've said I would feel comfortable telling to a stranger, because I've told these stories in many times, many ways. Let me ask you this. If I can tell you all this, if a stranger can read these words, then ask yourself.

What happened to me that I can't talk about? There are so many things I wish people knew about me that I can't tell. No one will ever have a full picture of me, and I have to learn to be okay with that.

The last thing I'll post is ready to go. I finished it back in mid august, thank goodness. But as for how much I can write in between now and then? I don't know that either. It's kind of why I asked for help. I wanted to have the narrator himself give me permission to rest, as odd as that might sound. It's one of the few consistent loopholes I have. If a fictional character tells/asks me to, it's easier. I don't know why.

If you've read this far, then thank you. And I hope we can all find the peace we're looking for.

[criizz]

Yung totoo, nahihiya ako ishare to' kasi baka ako lang yung taong nakakafeel nito. Pero i wanted to share this in be half sa mga katulad ko na trying to convince others na ok lahat kahit hindi.

Hanggang ngayon di ko pa din alam kung san ako magaling, san ako magsstay, san ako magssettle. Sometimes, i envy those people na alam nila kung anong gusto nila, some set their goals and finally reached them. Some were already confident if you ask them kung kamusta na sila. Kasi ako, i did get what i am aiming for my career dati pa. Pero ginive up ko din cos i knew that wasn't for me. I'm already at the age na dapat stable na ako sa career ko. But i didn't expect na, until now i'm still wandering if ano ba tlaga ako. I don't want to be someone lang kasi gusto ko i have my own purpose, to be a blessing and memorable to everyone that knows me. Still --- i'm here, still have no clue what i wanted with my life. And that is one of the reason na all of a sudden my anxiety attacks me.

Last week via vc i told my mom everything i am worrying about, naging honest lang ako. And i cannot forget what my mom replied, that "Life is not just about Career, job or achieving goals. Your position or job description in the company doesn't define you, doesn't define the whole you.

Remember, you have a life outside the workplace, you have a family that treat you as a daughter and sister not just an employee or co workers. You have a church that you are enjoying to showcase your talent and to serve God. You have friends, true friends that enjoys your company. You can still be a blessing, an inspiration, and do your purpose to others kahit di mo naabot yung akala mong don lang umiikot yung buhay.

It's not just about the career. Kaya relax, tao ka."

[theskeletoninthegarden]

A wonderful conversation would be me telling a pre-teen that I love their dog (a shaggy collie obviously well into it's years) and them replying by saying they loved my cat (who often sits in a window facing the street), and then the conversation ending right there. Thank you.

[mohamedhassensblog]

وانني مثل نبتة صغيره عندما تهب الرياح تكاد تقتلع جذوري لكني ثابت في مكاني انتي مثل حصوة في الأرض تسندني

[fade-out]

for the seasons of our lives

[spaceoracle]

I sleep as much as I can and I'm still always sleepy lmao