here to vent

20s | she/her | chronically ill | using this like a diary but you can look if you want to | if you know my main shhh no you don’t

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sometimes life is hard but then it gets worse

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Test test test

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Test test test

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It’s funny how you kinda die when you become sick like this. Like i just don’t exist in the world anymore. Fuck idk

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so I like my personality and I know that it comes in part from my adhd. So I get why people kind of talk abot in it as a quirk. But I feel like people do not understand that adhd, it’s not just like being silly and not focusing. It’s actually kind of deeply horrifying.

You are born without the ability to produce dopamine, and chemical that you need for your brain to function. What this means is that you are literally *born* dependent on a chemical that you have to get from outside sources. It’s basically being born an addict and literally always being an addict and there is nothing you can fundamentally do about it. This a reality that is horrifying and deeply painful to live with. It’s treated so much like this throwaway diagnosis that everyone thinks they have or whatever, but it is literally like being in withdrawal from a drug addiction but perpetually for your entire life. It’s devastating and extremely hard to deal with, especially if you are someone like me who has other health conditions that prevent you from taking stimulants another meds.

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Just called to reschedule a diagnostic appointment I was supposed to have today that I waited five months for, now waiting another five months, but at this point time feels so meaningless to me with my life so entirely devoid of anything that I’m not even feeling any emotions about it beyond relief that I can sleep finally

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has anyone else been thinkin a lottt lately about how using gen ai is perhaps the most striking one-to-one to “cheating” in the scholomance magic system? Like you are literally using malia every time you fire up that fuckin gpt engine or image generator or whatever. You can’t just get something from nothing. You can’t poof an entire image equivalent to hours and hours of someone’s work without killing part of the world. SO many people seem to fundamentally not get this. It should make you IMMENSELY uncomfortable, in the same way that you should feel immensely uncomfortable buying dirt cheap clothing and etc. If you are not paying, someone else is paying in suffering. In my fantasy everyone would just read those books and understand this but I fear it would go over their heads.

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someday I’ll escape and I’ll live happily ever after

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I have this fantasy where I run into the night and somehow outrun my illness

At home, at night, again. I’m lonely and I miss my life. I imagine the outside world, the stars, the moon, the people partying, late night trains running. I live by the ocean and I imagine the waves against the cliffs lit up by street lamps. I’m so stuck and I just want free of this life. In my fantasy I run out the door and just keep running. I visit the cliffs, and I’m alive. I feel the mist of the ocean sting my cheeks. And then I keep running. I crash in a park to catch my breath but it feels good, not bad. I make it to the city and I get myself a snack from a fast food place. I get a shake and it tastes good, not bad. And then I get on a bus. And I watch out the widows at all the people leaving bars and late service restaurants. And I listen noisily to the couple idly chatting behind me, so clearly in love that it makes me smile. And then I get a train. And the train takes me far, far away, into the night. The train runs for maybe an entire lifetime. Or maybe just a night. And rumbles and buzzes, but it’s calming, not overstimulating. And I sleep full of ice cream and fries, and happy. And in the morning, I wake up, and I know I am safe. I know that when I step off that train I will be able to face whatever life throws at me, because here I have my body, and brain, and they are working, and I know I have them. And I miss the people and the places in my old life, and it hurts like hell. But now, I can handle the hurt. Now, I am free.

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I always knew I *wasn’t* destined for greatness

An mecfs rant

Well, not always. As a young child I had many wild aspirations. But I see lots of people online who, before they became ill, were very accomplished and on their way to great things. I never had that. Ever since I was around 14, I have felt like my life was slipping out from under me. It was then that when people asked me about my life goals all I could see was a dark void. Given that I already struggled just to get though school and nothing else, I could not possibly imagine getting though the work it took to be an accomplished adult. Everyone always told me “it will get easier as you get older” but it only ever got harder. Each year a new injury, a now chronic pain condition, more insomnia, more adhd, more stress. Bu the time I was 18 I was a husk of myself. I distracted myself from my failures by going to concerts, working nights (except when I was sick and between jobs), blowing all my money on eating out because I was too exhausted to feed myself, and rotting my brain on YouTube. I failed out of community college 4 times in 5 semesters. When i became ill with this disease it was when I was finally bec becoming stable - had worked a job for the longest ever without having to leave due to illness, was about to direct a play for the first time - but still, I had no real life prospects. Still I was just barely staying afloat. I remember thinking, right before I got sick, that there was no way I could do all this stuff successfully because that never happened for me. Turns out I was right. People in my life tell me off for having a defeatist attitude but I got my first diagnosis at age 11 and I’ve been watching my health decline ever since and I’ve just never really seen proof that I am a capable human. I’ve lived so many glorious lives in my imagination but the only thing I’ve lost in reality is sensory pleasures - romance, concerts, socializing, nature. Nighttime walks. Movies and books. I think I was destined to break. Even my dad who had a rough spot in his 20s and “recovered” now has dementia at 50 so I figured I have that to look forward to as well if I live that long. I think that I have a poetic mind that feels so deeply but was not prepared for this world. She was meant to live in dreams I think. In incorporeal states. This body was not made to match.

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Again: fuck doctors

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crashing out and wishing I was dead because the wrong food got bought for me, it’s like being a child, I can’t stand it I can’t I can’t

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like genuinely wishing death over pork belly what even is my life

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crashing out and wishing I was dead because the wrong food got bought for me, it’s like being a child, I can’t stand it I can’t I can’t

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When Does The Cold Stop

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It’s like I’m dead

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thought I had escaped the October Slide but turns out that was only because I am actually a November Slide girlie 😑

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Sometimes I have to tell myself repeatedly that I’m not real and don’t exist just to stop being so devastated at all the thing I’ve lost