Where did you come from? Hell maybe?

    Starting posts is always the worst part. I have so many thoughts in my head, but writing it down is almost impossible. I'm like a fire-cracker, ready to burst; but instead, I find myself teetering off. It's the same feeling I have writing letters. I love writing to people, it feels more genuine than just texting. However, I can't start letters for shit, and when I do I start talking about unimportant things.  I don't have the same issue with art, doing art is so ingrained in my brain (ha rhyming) that it feels so natural to start.     Art is an otherworldly feeling, like a state of existence where what I fear can't get me. Art is an infinite game where I am never the loser or the winner but an immortal participant. It's comforting; it's been with me almost my entire life so it's intertwined with me; I can't separate it from myself. I love art.  

        Recently, I found that parts of myself were being pushed to the sideline. I mean that sometimes things I love and am passionate about are not as important to some people, so I limit my personality to small talking points. It dumbs me down more so I find myself slipping back into my dumb blonde thing. It's nice to act dumb, even if sometimes I wish to scream out and break the persona down. Eventually, when I'm far away from people, I won't feel the need to playcate. As it stands at the moment though, I'll stay ditzy; even if it means I'll never share what I find cool.

    Even with that mess of a cake, I'm doing well. Probably better than I have in a while; though my body is in so much pain. Two periods takes it out of you, I just feel weak and exhausted. I feel like I'm being bled out. I want it to be over already. I neglect my health in pursuit of work being done frequently; migraines during work, almost passing out but continuing to stay at school, and even the little health things I don't do. I am an extreme perfectionist, so sometimes I feel the need to show up even if it costs me my health. But I need to take it slower, I need to take some time to not exhaust myself for the sake of work. Physical health is just as important as mental health and now it's screaming for attention. I need to be better to myself, not only for my sake but for the sake of the people I love. I can't just like up and die.

        Life is going to get better, and I'm excited to see how I grow and change. I'm starting to not fear the passage of time, as long as I have the person I care about the most right next to me, I'll be okay. I have a life ahead of me planned perfectly, I just need to be healthy and happy to enjoy that life. I'm going to feel better and I'm going to live this life.

Hold me and squeeze me and never let me go

     I'm terrified of being abandoned, it's my biggest fear. The idea of someone leaving me behind with no good reason is the most frightening thing. Recently, that fear has become more prevalent; breakup season, sibling disputes, and parental torment are far too stressful. It doesn't help that I worry about every little thing; all my little worries eventually become big worries; now I'm stuck in bed thinking 50 thoughts a minute, thanks brain. The point is, I don't want to be alone; I hate being alone. It's being stuck with yourself (if you can't tell being alone with my brain is like being alone with a child) I need someone to be stuck with me. 

   I worry too much about abandonment, it floats in my head every day. One wrong move and there goes everyone you love. Car crashes, liver failure, not being pretty enough, it haunts me. I feel the need to be perfect so people don't leave me; it's ridiculous, but when people see me in a vulnerable state, I feel as if they'll leave me faster. I hate being vulnerable for that reason, I don't want people I care about to see a part of me that pushes them away. I'm like my mother in that sense; it seems every day my flaws are becoming familiar. She also doesn't want to be left alone, I think I get it from her. 

    I don't want my dad to die or leave, I don't want my mom to succumb, I don't want to disown my brother and I don't want my boyfriend to find someone better. I'm scared of all of it; I just want some piece of mind that nothing bad will happen. I don't want to be alone. I don't want anyone to leave me; I'm too weak for that.

It feels healthier to have it over ice

 

    I feel like absolute shit. Maybe more than shit; I feel like hell. I'm doing my stress thing again, the one where I start getting depressive and delusional when I get too overwhelmed. I convince myself of dumb things; unreal things that I use to make myself more miserable. A part of me finds comfort in being depressed. like a hailstorm almost, a comforting memory, but when it happens, you feel stressed. To put it plainly, I'd rather be inside during a hailstorm; nowhere near the hurling ice. But when I was depressed, I feared everything but that fear was only for a moment and gave way to emptiness. The emptiness was familiar, like the smell of hair dye or my mom's old perfume. A strange facet of me found it perfect. Like when the suicidal thoughts and desperation to hurt myself fell away, it was a moment of silence. When you have nothing to feel, your moments become longer; you are inseparable from the sounds of your heartbeat and every other noise is thunderously loud. That one moment of empty peace where the world didn't feel cruel; a part of me misses it. 

        However, I don't want to be depressed, even if some parts feel so comforting. Feeling emotions is innately human; I want to participate in being human. That conclusion begs the question of how to deal with my stress and slipping back into unemotional hysteria. The truth is, I have no clue. Am I stuck like this forever? Am I forever cursed to be a stressed-out weirdo? Probably not. I know how to calm myself down from irrelevant delusions, but getting to the core issue takes time. If I don't get to the core issue,  I'm the proud loser of Stress City. I don't know where to go from this limbo; up or down, the direction is shrouded in darkness.

    As long as I try my best and keep my head above the tide, I'll be okay. 

                  




                                                                                    "I envy everything that doesn't have to be pretty to live"

What's up, me again, maybe not too sad this time

    

    I've been doing good. I have moments where I'm taken by indescribable fear and twisted into a monster, but my monstrous state amounts to a chihuahua. You can punt a chihuahua. Really the problem is that I turn molehills into mountains and anxiety is frankly an asshole. 

    At this point, I'm just frustrated with myself. It's ridiculous, I let some dumb brain-changing chemicals warp my perceptions and make me delusional. Shadow work sucks, it's like a constant discussion with the worst part of yourself. Having my shadow be more of a constant in my life is like dealing with a child:

    "Nobody likes me" it screams

    "Sure bud," I say

    "I'm being abandoned"

    "You don't need attention constantly man"

  It's a cycle, this kid won't shut up and let me live. Right now is the best my life has been and really it's gonna get much better, so I shouldn't let some stupid shit get in the way of me living. Yeah yeah, you reader can see the contradiction, I'm gonna come back and complain about my problems even more. Spell it out in emo format and cry for a bit. Right now though, I'm done trying to find a way to fix myself, it takes time and I want to live. My blog has always been my space, and maybe that space won't be as fucking depressing anymore. 

    I want to feel better, and I'm trapping myself by lingering on my emotional state. Things will be better and I will find stability.

        P.S. Hey yeah, you know who you are. Sitting there all cute, reading this blog. You smell great and your eyes shine with an undeniably gorgeous glow. How does it feel being the most beautiful boy? Just curious, would like an answer soon though.

All her life was an attempt to disprove it; and so proved it. She was like a sea anemone -- had only to be touched once to adhere to what touched her

    It's painfully obvious that I'm an anxious mess. However, in better news, I've pin pointed what exactly happens to me. During high stress, I fall into an almost depressive state of paranoia. I become delusional and I lack rational thought. I'm happy I recognized this, but it leaves me the bigger challenge of figuring out how to deal with it. At the moment my way of dealing with this is non-existent, opting instead to tough it out through the sleep deprivation and intense guilt. This is evidently not healthy and makes it much worse, so I have to figure out distresses. Bigger problem, my way of coping is to distract myself and that's not as effective as it used to be, because usually what I'm distracting myself with is more things that make me stressed. My whole thought process is wrong though, I shouldn't be trying to find a one and done solution, I need to be actually figuring out how to deal with this healthily. It's a mess, I feel like a mess and I have no idea where to start when picking apart my head.

    So far, what I know about what I struggle with is this:

            1. Abandonment, which leads to my possessive feelings

            2.  Unhealthy emotional control and intense emotions

            3. Extreme stress that shuts me down and causes nervous breakdowns

            4. My pride and refusal to ask for help

    This are all things that have affected me recently and are causing problems. They're all manageable at my current state, but ideally I'd like to get my shit together. All I know, at least at this moment, I need some sleep, it's calm in my house again so It feels like I can try to let a lot of what I'm holding in out. It's all going to be okay, as long as I have my support system and can keep my head above the waves, I'll be able to be able to handle my shit.

            

I never ended up being Ophelia, partly thanks to you

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea

But sad mortality o’er-sways their power,

How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,

Whose action is no stronger than a flower?

O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out

Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days,

When rocks impregnable are not so stout,

Nor gates of steel so strong, but time decays?

O fearful meditation! where, alack,

Shall time’s best jewel from time’s chest lie hid?

Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?

Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?

   O, none, unless this miracle have might,

   That in black ink my love may still shine bright.