Today, like all days, it's black tea with heavy cream

     

    I'm fine with losing friends. Is that shitty? In fairness, I'm kind of shitty. Some people, I can't stand losing, my sparrow, my brothers, or my parents. Really I'd be fine with losing my fair-weather friends and those I call friends but don't care about. I'm not the best person, I'm capable of cruelty. All people are really, no one is perfect, and no one is perfectly nice. Everyone is cruel, some people just express their cruelty more. Maybe I'm wrong to think that everyone in some way is cruel, but that perception has been with me for as long as I can remember. 

        I'm beyond stressed and once again, sleeping is impossible. I hate trying to go to sleep, I'm exhausted all day and when I get to bed I stay up overthinking. Here are the topics that my brain has obsessed over recently: my sparrow will leave me, I'm being far too needy, I'm going to get fired from my job(s), and maybe just maybe, I will get a terminal illness and die surrounded by nobody. The abandonment issues are going crazy like my brain cannot chill. I'm trying my best not to worry, but that concept is on vacation. I hate worrying so much, everything in my life is going great, and really I only have a few actual problems. I want to be happy, I want to enjoy my happiness. I worked so hard to get here and I just don't want to waste it. I don't want to be alone and every day I fear I'll lose everything. Everyone I love and need is just gone. I can't handle that idea. But there comes a point where I fear my neediness, I fear that I'm dependent on the people I love. I don't want to be needy or annoying but I need the people I love to stay. 

    It's funny, I ran out of heavy cream this morning, I'm having chamomile today. Chamomile reminds me of the people who've had the most impact on me. My mother always made it for me when I felt shitty and it's my sparrow's favorite. I love it because of that, because people I love, love it. But usually, I have the same thing most mornings, black tea (two tea bags) and heavy cream. I enjoy having and maintaining a routine, getting up at a specific time, making the same tea, and doing the same motions every day. It's comforting. It makes me feel a little less anxious like I have some sort of control. Especially when I feel like I can't control my anxiety. 

        There is a plus to some of my solitude recently. I've been able to focus on self-care and get back into reading. I've been reading this book, 140 pages or so and it's about this group of siblings whose dad suddenly dies, followed by their mom. The group buries their mother in a cement box in the garden, and the rest of the book follows their daily lives. It's fascinating, though it's reeks of 80s charm? I don't know if I should call it a charm. The book is called Cement Garden and it's written by Ian McEwan. I'm excited to finish it up! But I've been overloading my schedule with work, so finding some free time is a little difficult. I just hope it doesn't sit on my nightstand half-red like most of my books recently.

            You know what's also difficult? Finishing blog posts, I write my posts throughout the week so I always want to add more and more. It's a relaxing process for me, categorizing my thoughts into paragraphs. Though I have been stressed, I feel like this week has been easier to handle, being able to throw myself into work, has been therapeutic. Though I still can't sleep, I feel a little stressed still.

My art will get good when it's fall, I promise

     In general, I'm not good at starting things. Conversations, drawings, and especially blog posts. Hooking a reader is difficult when really all I want to say is "Uh oh I'm stressed again". Do I ramble about a movie, tea, or a song? No one gave me a manual about writing blogs. Back to the point, like always, I'm a stressed-out and worried person, and of course, I'm going to ramble. Which you know what, that makes me feel better. I don't need to make my blog more palatable to someone who won't read it (If you know, you know exactly who this is (and if you are reading this, excuse you I'll make my blog as sad as I want)) Yeah, maybe I am a depressive person, by god I have a depression disorder, what do you want from me? The point is, I guess I'm tired of trying to do what people say I should. I feel like some people have no reason (or are fucking stupid) and try to tell me some great ideas to help me. Before you interject, maybe it is in my best interest, but even then, I'll change my life based on what I need and how I think I need it. That's what I fucking hate you know? People who have no business in my kitchen, stick their fingers in my pie. Like come on, I don't tell you fucking bullshit all the time. I'm getting off-topic, FUCK IT, I can't think of a topic and I'm feeling manic.

    Another thing I hate is this fucking persona I put up with, I know it's all my own doing and sometimes it's nice. But what I hate is that the fucking bottom-of-the-barrel morons treating me like I'm some sort of pretty dumb doll to "educate". Like I swear to god, the number of times people have tried to teach me kindergarten shit or see me as incapable, "Oh let your boyfriend do that for you " Like yeah, the act is to act stupid, not fucking incompetent. That's the result of the persona though, so fuck me and turn me into a muffin. At some point, I'm gonna drop this shit and lose it. I'm going nuts, like oh I'm quiet for a minute, yeah maybe I am, BECAUSE WHAT YOUR TALKING ABOUT IS FUCKING STUPID AND I DON'T WANT TO DUMB MYSELF DOWN (bitch) Like at this point when I start being quite, stop fucking asking me if I'm okay, I either don't want to engage in idiocy or I don't feel like getting approval. God, I'm acting like an elitist, no I don't think I'm smarter than people, I just think that some people are morons (maybe I feel a bit of a superiority complex because of that (I sound like an asshole (not wrong))) 

    

    This whole letting shit out is nice, I feel less worried, or as less worried as I can be. I don't know what is wrong with my brain chemistry, my anxiety is unmanageable. I'll try to describe how it feels: My inner voice is always talking, most of it unintelligible. Watching or listening to something helps mute it, and the same with talking. However, if I'm trying to focus, I can't have any noises, so the voice comes back. The voice, when not unintelligible, is a repeat of all my worries. Also, I have intense paranoia, so if I hear something, I'll automatically focus on it and distrust everything related; probably get a headache or start crying from hyperfocusing on one thing. It's like a constant repeat, like a broken record. Over and over my worries just circulate. I sweat everything, the small stuff is just as important to worry about as the big stuff. When I say I worry, I mean that my head is constantly repeating what I worry about until I get overwhelmed. Little things get me and feeling secure enough to go to sleep is impossible (I'm able to get sleep quickly with one person, he knows who he is). I have the worst time feeling comfortable, partly due to my abandonment fear. I worry the most about being abandoned, little things make me feel inadequate (it's stupid) and that leads to me feeling sick from the amount I've worried (I get stress sick more times than I'd like to admit) I have no clue how to feel calm and all the temporary solutions I've found just get overridden after a while. I want to feel safe and calm all the time, but that's almost impossible.

        This has been a long night, but the rambling helps. I want to sleep tonight and maybe let the mask down. I don't know if I need to throw up from stress or if I need to watch more muppets. Probably watch more muppets, and wait until I'm too tired to think so I can sleep. Truth is, I stay up late every night to tire my brain out so I can just be comfortable and think about nice things, or If I need my sleep I try to think of things I like. But most of the time, especially recently, it's tiring my brain out.

Are you the Devil? I am you.

   I would hope I'm an interesting person. I mean I try to be. I like absurdist movies, poetry, and art. I love the macabre and occult. I am fascinated by philosophy and psychology. But I'm also a huge geek, Godzilla, comic books, and cult classics. I love all of that stuff with all of it mixed into me, like a soup. 

        One of my favorite movies is Belladonna of Sadness. It's a Japanese avant-garde movie that makes the artist in me squeal. Every scene is a breathtaking watercolor painting that depicts the main character's struggles with womanhood. Whenever I get to share Belladonna of sadness with people I get giddy knowing I introduced something new to someone.

        another thing I love is exorcisms. I think the practice and the absurdity around Catholicism are super interesting. Like saints and demons, super cool. 

    All the things I love are parts of me; but still, I hide. I put them to the side hoping to keep up my persona. I've started to loathe the persona, yeah it's how I talk to people, but being an almost different person tires you out. I'm a nervous quiet shut-in, who'd rather be doing anything else than having to delude myself. Because that's all I'm doing, deluding things I love for the sake of being able to talk and have friends. I'm trying to let it go, and give myself the grace to be who I want to be, but I'm far too intertwined with it. I'm trying, I swear I am. It'll get better and eventually,

I won't rely on a persona to function in social situations.

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"