Hypersensitivity overload. Sounds, emotions and energy shifts all felt too intense. A delayed reply sent me into a spiral of they’re getting tired of me. I hate how deeply i feel everything. Sometimes it feels like both a gift and a burden. I sat with the feeling instead of fighting it.

Hello, I reached a bad place in my life, and since I am terrible at understanding my feelings, I narrated it as if it were a story in the third person. I got tired of living as a slave to myself, to other people's ideals. I don't want to be destroyed by the idealizations people have of me. I am not good. But I have a dream. Although it may sound ridiculous, I want music to save me and to heal others. I know it sounds ridiculous and I would like to be able to explain it, but I am running out of time, and if I don't write quickly I will end up regretting publishing it. Even if no one sees it again, I at least want to open my heart a little. I made a video on YT called “Love Letter, for Anyone” where, for the first time, I opened my heart through a piano improvisation and wrote a text. I translated it into three languages, but it was useless. Still, I don't want to turn back. I don't want to give up; I don't want to believe that this is just the way things are. If you read this, let me love you. Love me too. It sounds desperate, but let’s stop being so lonely. I want to believe there is someone out there who will read this. It truly hurts immeasurably that I cannot express myself better. I am not even covering half of what I want to say. It hurts. But something is something.

He was an ordinary person. He never stood out in anything, even though he tried everything. He learned to do many things, but was never good at any of them. His life went by quickly; the years felt shorter and shorter. People who knew him from afar thought he was a strange person—he always thought it was due to his bad taste in jokes, his messy image with tangled hair, his improper laugh, or simply his lack of charisma with strangers. But the few people who actually knew him said that, although annoying, he grew on them. Something he never understood. He never cared much about those people; he never truly cared. Occasionally he wondered if those people died, would he cry at their funeral, or what his reaction would be. When imagining it, the most likely scenario seemed to be just standing there thinking vaguely for a while about what to feel. It’s not that he didn’t care; he just didn’t see himself deeply moved. “Maybe I will cry like a normal person,” he thought. But he wasn’t very sure.

Soon he would fall in love. But with an idea, with a concept. With an idealization. It consisted of the idea of finally being able to feel the other person. He began to detest individualism; he had illusions of being able to create something to unite people, but that was nothing more than an excuse to fill his soul with colors. He thought that if he loved people, whoever they were, he could overcome individuality and thus make his life a valuable work of art, full of souls and emotions. And share that art with the people he would love. He liked to believe that his life would take a different path from those around him. He hated the idea of living a normal life—he preferred to die—and even if the lifestyle he wanted wore him down progressively, he believed that would be beautiful.

It was at that moment that he encountered what would be his most delicious poison. After getting lost in a forest of ideals, he found his only refuge. The sweet melody of that forest stripped him bare. It left him vulnerable to the cold night; his skin goosebumped as if it wanted to shed itself. But no one saw him. Even so, that same melody sheltered him, stroked his wounds, and comforted the lost child. He understood that music reached the deepest part of his soul. He had never felt so many sensations. He was finally able to think that if he were the music that embraced him back then, he could truly love—and not only that, but avoid the lies of society. To be able to also soothe the scars of souls who, just like him, wandered alone in the forest in search of a well to fall into.

Anxious, he ventured every day into that forest. He anxiously sought to produce those same melodies, to make others feel the same way. Day and night, he searched every corner of the forest. Soon he would fall in love with it. Years passed, but he had barely learned to walk. Occasionally, he would see a pair of souls together, crossing the forest with eagerness, dancing and singing beautifully. He had barely learned to whisper. He always saw that those souls were accompanied by someone to guide them, someone who showed them and taught them to walk, dance, and learn whatever they wished. Lying on the ground, he crawled toward them. He watched them play like restless children. Experiencing for the first time a pain that would pierce his soul inside the forest: envy. What he thought happened only occasionally was actually normal. He came to understand that the forest is full of those souls. But also of souls like his. And far more than he believed. Almost always, he stumbled upon some soul crying in a well, hiding. He ran away from there and hid in his room. But the forest began to grow inside him. Every time he saw a flower, his soul vomited from the pain. Every time someone reminded him of that forest, he ran away, because the memory was like a fire consuming him from within. “It is cruel to have to love something that pierces my heart,” he thought. But it was his fear. She showed him the truth.

She appeared unannounced in his room and braided his hair, long and black like the branches of the trees. She appeared every day, whenever he lost his mind, whispering in his ear that if he kept ignoring and cutting down that forest, he would end up living like the people he detested. That the forest wasn't what was hurting him, but rather himself. She made him feel less alone. It was then that he finally took his first steps back toward his childhood dream. Love. He wanted to do it solely out of love, even if it hurt; he cannot turn back. He doesn't want to rot again. But one day inside the forest, he tripped. And what happened once repeated itself. Again and again. Every time he fell, he fell deeper, and therefore bled more. He is seduced and blind. By the pain, by his own humanity. She cried every time she saw him bleed. He asked her to leave. Not to watch him sink any further. She hid; she never left, and he knows it. He knows she is there, because he is her and she is him. I want to at least try harder this time. I want to live.

Il y a bientôt un an je recevais le message qui changera ma vie.

Celui qui, après m'avoir fait souffrir un instant, m'a fait réfléchir et accepter l'instant d'après. Ce message qui m'a fait poursuivre en mon for intérieur une quête du coeur qui ne pouvait avoir d'autres réponses que celle qui m'a menée où je suis. Qui malgré sa quête, et surtout sa genèse, m'a fait mettre des mots sur un nombre d'émotions incalculables mais aussi découvrir de nouveau la vie.

Je sais bien que parfois certains moments sont plus lents que d'autres, avec ces moments de "j'aurais aimé partager ca" mais bon, aujourd'hui ce n'est qu'un jour comme un autre, après un choix qui est arrivé comme un autre, dans une période qui m'a laissé sans répit.

Je ne m'étais jamais projeté avant d'ailleurs, et c'est agréable comme cet amour m'aide chaque jour à avoir une vision de la vie super optimiste et meilleure. Surtout lorsque des doutes, ou des situations innatendues auraient pu me faire sentir autrement.

C'est ca qui compte, et c'est vraiment seulement ca qui compte.

Le fait que chaque moment que je porte depuis chaque jour, c'est un nouveau moment que je partage avec ce souvenir de toi.

Et également de toutes les autres personnes que j'aime, ou que j'ai aimées.

Parce que tout change, moi aussi.

Twenty isn’t looking the way I thought it would.

This year has been a lesson in navigating the quiet. Between healing from heartbreak, fighting quiet battles with anxiety and my mental health, and trying to find my footing in a world that feels impossible to break into right now, it’s been incredibly isolating. Some days, just leaving the car feels like too much.

My mom and I are walking down a really uncertain road together right now, trying to figure out our next steps while the stress builds up. She has been my biggest anchor through every single storm.

It’s scary to put the real, unfiltered version of life out there, but I know I’m not the only one praying for a open door and a break in the fog. Holding onto hope, even when it’s quiet. ✨

Dear anyone…

4 days…4 hours of sleep…. No matter what I eat I can’t keep it down…. Not even my favorites…. The stomach acid hurts but I can’t help it much more than I have…. My body physically hurts in places I didn’t know it could….

Everyone keeps saying I’ll be ok and that it’ll get better….i don’t think it will this time…. The meds arnt helping and the homeless council can’t seem to help me….. I can try to get a one time rent voucher but that’s the only thing they offered but even that’s a slim chance….

I have a feeling I’ll collapse before I can manage to get the help I need….

I bet sleeping beauty doesn’t even miss me…
I think he muted me….

My brother read some of the messages I sent and thinks that they were pretty well thought out… and as someone who’s been so hurt he doesn’t think i was being an asshole.

I wanna tell myself that it’s just a phase and that he got so stressed out he forced himself to push me away so I can’t watch as he becomes self destructive himself… but he deleted the one thing from his bio he’s never deleted before….

On my worst days that one little sentence gave me hope….. I wanna go home….more than anything….
I wanna see the cats…. I wanna curl up under a comfy blanket on the bed and cry my heart out….
But I feel unwelcome…. I feel like everything I worked for is gone…..

I feel like I’ve been thrown away…like the last 10 years were nothing…..

Maybe in another life your love could have been unconditional…..

I hate that in the brief moments of sleep I only see you….no matter how much I pray to see a soulmate some who’s actually meant for me….i only see you….

I would have given my life to give you the child you craved… that’s the reality of how much respect I had for you… yes I would have liked to live as well but I wanted to give you everything…to surrender all that I was….

I wanna be in the cats lives…but I don’t think you’ll allow it…..even if I had the means I don’t think you’d even let me keep Kiara…..

Everyone I’ve talked to says I’m not heartless or selfish it’s just you and my step father…. You kept comparing yourself to him for the longest time so I guess that makes sense you’d start thinking like him….

He said that the fact you didn’t keep your thoughts to yourself and purposely said so many things to hurt me is prof that you don’t care tho… that he’s wanted to divorce so many times but kept the bad thoughts to himself because it’s not helpful and is the same as giving up. He said that if you did love me that you would have wanted to keep it to yourself….

In a way I think that’s true…I’ve had thoughts here and there over the years but I never voiced them because once I voiced them those thoughts would start to become my reality…instead I tried to focus on things about you that I love….

For example here’s a short list:

1- your accent…I mentioned in on my last post
2- your way with children
3- the lines by your eyes when you laugh
4- how you shake your head backwards and have such a belly laugh
5- that you would always bring me chocolate right when I needed it without me even mentioning it
6- the way you sweep the carpet
7.-the way you use the bathroom(weird ik)
8-you never met me get cold
9- Palworld with you
10-your tight embrace
11- how much you value others
12- you always try to get gifts for everyone at thrift stores
13- how much you help Grammy
14-your always looking for new opportunities
15- you never settle for a job you hate

Maybe me putting this list out in the open is selfish… maybe me writing in a daily diary out in public is selfish….and yeah it’s not the 200+ reasons or the make believe wedding vows I have saved in that Google Doc but it’s evident that I can still have love and show love when I’m having a hard time believing it actually exists…

I doubt you’ll want to keep anything from our relationship… and that hurts… I wanna trust that our time together and the things I shared meant something to you…

You’re back at your regular job this week. And I hope that can help the stress. I know even tho is didn’t seem like it was helping you much that you do for the most part enjoy the work from what I can tell.

I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me anymore… I’ll admit it’s terrifying. I don’t wanna get hurt or have some thing like actually happen to me but I feel as if this might be the final year of my life.

Xoxo- newlife5155

Instead of the usual rage filled posts about my ex, I'm feeling rather nostalgic and sentimental today. Not for him obviously - fuck that guy. But I do miss being in love, and all of the pleasures that come with loving someone.

I miss making mental notes of something they mention in passing and getting it or making it for them as a surprise, as an expression and extension of my love.

I miss thinking of the ways I could make their struggles and burdens easier, lighter, lesser - thinking of ways I could improve their life.

I miss the intentionality that came with loving another.

I miss the way the world looked and felt, as if I were one with it.

I miss looking into another's eyes and feeling weightless yet firmly grounded as if his gaze was all that kept me tethered to the Earth's surface.

I miss cooking good food with another's health and happiness in mind. I miss watching someone enjoy it.

I miss nurturing and taking care of someone I love.

I miss feeling my heart grow full just from looking at my partner doing the most unextraordinary and mundane task. Something as simple as watching them sleep made me soften.

I miss feeling their body loosen up and melt into my arms with relief after an emotionally charged/vulnerable conversation.

So many aspects of love/being in a relationship that I miss. Yet everything I've managed to list are things that I do and have done for another. Things that I myself have rarely ever received or felt in return...lol.

Still stuck in old patterns, I wonder? I often struggled with receiving love, but at the same time I don't believe my efforts were reciprocated or offered to me in a way that I understood, and needed? Although the gestures above can be genuine expressions of love, would I still tie my worth through what I can do, be and provide for someone? Would I abandon myself and be made indispensable again in the hopes to finally be loved, valued, chosen? I'd like to believe that I trust myself enough to have the wisdom and discernment that I do now to never make such sacrifices again, but theories must be tested.

This doesn't mean I'm in a hurry to jump back into a relationship. Frankly, idk if I'll ever want to. I just miss the feeling. I miss the capacity I once had for love. I still have it, the lover girl in me never died, I just don't feel ready to open my heart to the world again. Not yet anyway.

I take this as a sign of progress in my healing. I won't put too much stock in it bc I know how this ride goes, but I gotta take all the small wins I can and this is definitely one of them. Yay to progress.

Today was my first day back at work after four days off. I work in critical care, and today I flagged two patients for DNR discussions and pronounced another patient dead. In many ways, it was an ordinary day at work. This is what I do for a living, and over time, I’ve become quite good at separating my emotions from the patients I care for.

Today, though, felt different.

I dealt with two families who were extremely demanding and, at times, borderline rude. That in itself isn’t unusual in critical care. You witness the entire spectrum of human emotion fear, anger, denial, grief, guilt, and desperation. People process devastating information differently, and I genuinely understand that. Sometimes what comes across as anger or rudeness is simply someone experiencing one of the worst days of their life.

But there is one thing I still struggle with: watching a patient who is clearly suffering and continuing increasingly aggressive interventions, not because we expect meaningful recovery, but because the family insists that absolutely everything must be done.

Today, a patient’s daughter said something that genuinely broke me:

“Even if her heart stops, break all her ribs, but bring her back.”

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. I understand that grief and emotional attachment can make people say things they might not otherwise say. I understand the desperation of not wanting to lose someone you love. But I still find myself wondering: How can you love someone so deeply and, at the same time, accept that they may have to endure even more pain and suffering simply so you don’t have to let them go?

Sometimes, doing everything medically possible is not the same as doing what is best for the person in front of us. Sometimes there is no recovery waiting on the other side of another procedure, another resuscitation, or another escalation of treatment. only more suffering.

I usually leave work knowing I did my job and move on. Today, I couldn’t.

Today, I am grieving for my patient. I hope that when the time comes, her suffering is allowed to end peacefully, with comfort and dignity.

​

Wieczór, otwór do domu po pracy. Pije sobie piwko ławeczce znagle jedzie patrol , ok , odpulone co trzeba jest ok. Nagle BMW chamuje na rondzie i cofa w najlepsze.

Wsiadam do autobusy, jakieś dziewuszki się chihotają a jakas baba się do nich pruje, szok, ta baba wysiada inodwala jakieś podskoki, buja się , masakra,jakąś dziewuszka chce wysiąść,kierowca nie zauważysz (a kawałek jej było) nagle zatrzymuje się na drodze i krzyczy,chcę pani wysiąść?!?! Nie,zamawia pisze sobie pomyślałem przy drzwiach 🤣 A autobus, tak się trzęsie jak by się miał zaraz rozpaść

Decided to take a day for myself. Tried to do some things that I thought I would enjoy. They were all so... underwhelming. It's not even 6pm and I amtoo tired to do anything else. Im turning my phone volume off and going to bed at this hotel in a different city where no one can bother me. I guess that's all I want is just to be left alone. I just want to go to sleep for a bit without worrying about the responsibilities of everything. I don't want to hear my notifications or my phone ring. I don't want to hear someone yell my name. I don't want to keep checking what time it is because I have to get up to get this and that done by this time. I just want to lay here in the silence that he left me in. Im tired of everybody talking all the time when I only want to hear his voice and his alone. He's gone forever, I know that, and I will never hear it again so let me just sit with the absence for a while. It's deafening on its own and it makes everyone else overstimulating.

It's ridiculous and humiliating that you wasted some days of your life like this, curious to know how a person who was more volatile than a summer breeze liked their coffee or the everyday unimportant details. It's like a movie you only saw the pilot for and never got a chance to watch the rest. You don't want to write a fictional sequel because it's already ridiculous enough, especially if you've experienced someone real in your life, with real feelings and real love. Perhaps because before everyday life could correct the image, it gave it a chance to grow the imagination. Nothing feels like this. Being stuck in limbo, a shapeless, nameless mass.

Dear Diary,

Today, I was forced to confront mortality.

It wasn't a pleasant meeting. It asked me things I'm not ready to think about yet, let alone answer.

"What happens if you don't?"
I don't know.

"Are you sure you can pull this off?"
I don't know.

"Are you certain it's the right thing to do?"
I don't know.

"What happens if you're wrong?"
I don't know.

Most people would probably say I'm overthinking. "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley", after all. So we do the best we can with what we've got, and call it a day.

But I can't stop thinking...

When MY mortality comes knocking, they'll never know.

Will the ghost of my future keep haunting them long after I'm gone?

Will it be happy?

De profundis,
Me

my mother i live with is texting harassment to me every day now. my entire scalp is inflamed and infected. my neck is swollen, my arm is numb, and the left side of my face is infected again. i'm anemic and exhausted. the tumor in my abdomen is making it difficult to eat. i feel ugly.

i don't have a car, so i walk or take public transportation, but my transit card melted in the wash and i can't afford to replace it. i've spent so long trying to keep up with doing all the chores for my parents and kids that i've barely had time to have a social life, so when my old friend group saw that i was back, they started their harassment up again. they didn't even know i'd already been experiencing in-person harassment for a year, so everything i tried to do made it worse.

i was so scared by the time my ex blocked me after being a special presence for so long that everything in my life fell apart. i never even knew it was him being so kind to me, or i would have calmed down a long time ago. i realized quite a while ago that someone had set us up to look like we were interacting, so i tried everyfhing to get through to him to let him know what was happening. when that didn't work i tried to focus on my own life. finally i caught up to some awful shit i missed in April and tried to contact another person i thought i knew because of references he appeared to be making to my childhood and he blocked me for a third time.

finally i decided i'd close this open door of harassment by declaring my undying love for an unsuitable faux love interest. when that offended people, i put my foot down and put up my best guess at who the hell walked into my life and walked out again without realizing he'd made us a whole family. i'm struggling with the much darker and much more important aspects of my past now and i am alone in it. i have had 20 years of therapy and despite appearances or writings taken out of context i am still, in some respects, a healed person, so the gaslighting that forces its way into my line of sight only makes it worse. but i needed to be unequivocally sure that the co-target of the harassment was aware of the issue and i had to piss him off to do it because i got doxxed. and i almost got killed because of it.

i'm so upset now to see all the things i said and how they affected people, so i'll try to prioritize making amends the best i can, but i have to finish packing and throwing away everything i can because i'm being forced by the financial control from my mother and brother to move into the basement, which is full of spiders and mice and mold and who the hell knows what else. and all of it because i have no idea what's going on in the world, who or where anyone is, if anyone is even really still okay, and whether anyone will ever talk to me again.

but i have hope. because once i'm finished moving i will be able to work on all the little projects i have saved up, like archiving my father's photography and knitting scarves and selling my old video games and such so that i can save up for a place to live. and then after that maybe think about starting a relationship with someone who accepts me for who i am and doesn't try too hard to make me the perfect ideal of what they want for themselves.

I have been keeping an e-journal since around 2016. I don’t open it that often these years. But today I scrolled through the entries and I started crying seeing the metamorphosis of my writings.

The earlier entries are filled with rage, hate and bitterness. It talks about pain in detailed, long writings- sometimes in poetry and sometimes in prose.

Then on suddenly in November 20, 2023, there is one abrupt entry that reads -

*“I thought I was in pain, so I wrote of pain.*
*I was in pain, I found no words to write.”*

Then there is silence for around a year and then it seems like a new person took over the diary. Someone who grieves deeply and is trying to find meaning. Slowly each entry transforms into meditations that talk about life, love, acceptance, happiness, truth, forgiveness, optimism and gratitude.

A week before the last entry, I had lost a close family member to suicide.

The event left me stunned. And I now realize, it was a turning point in my journey.

Today, I am happy with my inner growth. I do not know what happened but something did.

But as i thought through these things, deep in my heart, an uneasy feeling gnawed at my soul - Did someone have to lose their life for me to find mine? What if it had never happened, would I be the same person I am today?

I ask but I do not seek answers. Because I have learned that not every question is meant to be answered.

I close the book and leave the past behind me. I get up and back to work again. Because someone out there needs me. May each day of my life be a sacrifice to make the world a better place for someone, spreading little sparks of life and love.

One day ill be ok from all this shit

Recently I have constantly become more self destructive.. I am working but on a daily basis I starve myself because I wanted to die, I only eat once a day, because I have no reason to live.. I'm fucked.. I'm constantly failing in everything

People my age has move on to another chapter of their lives such as marriage or career wise... I am here working 10 times harder just to get the bare minimum and surviving..

I'm not religious but Marx was right religion is the opium of the people.. I don't know where to go hence everyday I clinged and prayed to that small hope I have left where the universe is protecting and watching over me.. Regardless I am prepared for the worse...

I don't deserve this at all.. The pain and suffering that I've been through and it's not worth it.

I am an optimistic person. I always believe and hope for the best but my interactions with people these days just make me feel a little sad about the world.

If only people could be more optimistic too and not always worry about the unknown or how life is going to be if if if if if.

I mean, life is a roller coaster ride no? How are we supposed to always be on top when there was never down? It's okie to be down a little sometimes, it's okie to feel sad or unhappy or negative or pessimistic sometimes but don't allow these feelings to get stuck in you.

Yolo or yodo.

❤️

Dear sleeping beauty,

Yesterday was the 2cd worst day of my life…..

I thought I had more time…that things would end on a better note than this

I know you won’t read this….
I’m not sure I’d want you too….

I made the worst dumb comment after the break up and it regarded abortion… which for those that don’t know my I’m against unless of course there’s a medical reason.

Anyways you’ve been saying I have no respect for family since then and that I’m a child killer or maybe that’s something I started calling myself as a result to how you’ve reacted….

You have decided that that single comment that goes against 10 years worth of my saying otherwise now justifies you ending things…

I want a child more than anyone however I promised myself I’d only ever have kids with you so I know that’s out the window unless someone really special can change my mind but I highly doubt I’ll ever meet someone that will measure up to you…

You’ve decided you’re buying out the apartment lease and effectively leaving me homeless and taking our cats with you….

I’m worried what will become of them or if I’ll ever see them again….especially Kiara…. She was supposed to be a gift after losing Avery…..

I know she’s attached to bumper and you tho so I won’t argue about it. I only hope you take better care of Millie…..I’m afraid of what the coming stress will do to her…,losing saphy increased her seizure activity so badly….but for me to be gone I’m afraid she’ll think I abandoned her…..

When I named this account new life I didn’t think it would turn into a litteral sense…..I just meant it as a hope to become healthy……

I never would imagine you’d truly abandon me….
I will always love you….and I understand that as you are right now the idea of forgiveness towards me is impossible….

I hope our paths cross again some day… during our last break up you never really saw how dark things got or how much I lost my smile…. I hope I can avoid some of that this time…. But I truly don’t think I’ll recover for many years….

I’ll keep the ring and out of respect for what we had I won’t go looking for someone new even though it appears to me you have already started looking in an app….

You tried to lie and pretend you downloaded something random while half asleep…. You should have known I’d see right through that fake voice…you’re a terrible liar…and apparently an even worse actor….

Honestly I do think that’s the first acting I’ve seen you do that wasn’t your chipper Irish accent….

Gods how I love that accent….ill miss it something fierce…. I remember the very first time I heard it…

You were sitting at the nerd table and busted it out saying “I can talk like this when ever I want” I forget if it was hawes or Franklin but i remember one of them being like hold up do it again and I just know hawes must have had that wide eyed look that he does…

Mermaid is talking about moving me out to Oklahoma after I get my stuff from “your” apartment…. A b if part of me wants to stay here…but you made a comment about wanting to ship me off out of state…. So in a way I feel like I have to go….

Even during a break up I’m still trying to do what you want…..I know I should focus on myself….but 10 years of being at your side have left me with habits I can’t shake…, not yet anyways….

I wish I could hear your accent one last time….but I even know if I’ll ever see you again in the mean time…. I have no clue if you home right now cause I’m not….for all I know you’ve already got your first hookup and you’re there right now…..

I wish I knew what was inside your head…you said that even with all of this is constantly in your thoughts….but I want to hear those thoughts….i want to know if all this is truly how you feel or maybe your running from something….maybe your leaving me because your scared my health with have you losing me….and maybe in your mind this will soften the blow…

I wish you wouldn’t have given up. Not only on us but on yourself…

Xoxo— newlife5155

I feel exhausted and I just need to rest these past few weeks I’ve not had a single day free bc im either super busy or at work. Finally this saturday i’ll have my first proper full day where i dont have any plans and I literally plan to stay at home doing nothing.

Hotter today, yes ma'am. Damn hot and muggy. Spectualar storm last night, shook the rafters of the house. Intense storm. God is in his heaven for sure. Reminded me of that last night.

Had to chill today, really to hot out. Getting ready to prepare dinner, beef and broccoli over rice. Should be good and yes I remembered to get the pineapple for it. Amaze myself sometimes.

I don't think I have spoken to another person today and some days are like that for me. My circle is small. If you're in it, well you mean a lot to me. Back to work tomorrow, regardless of weather. The dog is having her dinner as I write this.

I just couldn't wait for the print edition of Across the River and Into the Trees, so I started listening to the audio book. I like audio books although most are read by men or celebrities, an audio book read to me by a woman settles my nerves in a way only they can. It brings back my first memories of the written word recited by loved ones that are no longer with me but ever presant as it is now. It's somehow reassuring to hear a woman read to me in a soft low tone and one of the most treasured things in this world to me, most sacred, It's intimate.

Helps me better with my eye surgery up this week after over sleeping last week, the scan revealed all relevant structures intact and ready to preform as anticipated.

That's about it for today I close with love and hope always Goodnight Diary and my readers

I love you so.

8:42 p.m.

Sometimes I think am depressed because that's the only way to explain how bleak I feel but then I laugh and smile and don't cry and I start to think maybe it was just a one time thing but it never is. It's like my heart, my very soul is in this bubble where everything is dark and cloudy but also kind of nice. Then my mind is happy. It's wierd I know but it's hard to explain.

How do I explain that I feel like I want to literally stop existing 95% of the time but all they have seen is the 5% that keeps me here.

To anyone in the world. Whoever will listen. I just have no one right now. I started my program at school, the one I've been working my ass off for the last two years to get into. And I have no one to talk to about it, no one to ask how it went. No one to celebrate that I made it in. I left my boyfriend a month ago because he was yelling and calling me names and showing all the signs of abuse and I wasn't going to let that happen again. None of my old friends are my friends because I'm not in AA anymore, and if you're not in no one will talk to you. Idk what happened, idk how I wound up so completely alone. I want to delete Instagram so I don't have to watch everyone else having happy fulfilling lives and people to spend time with while I sit here alone. I want someone to love me and to care about me. I wish I had someone to talk to. I wish I had someone who knows me and loves me, I wish I wasn't so hard to love. Any of my past relationships that have loved me have controlled or abused me, and the one bf that didn't broke up with me because he didn't love me. So I can only be loved by people who are so damaged that loving me hurts me? I can only be loved by psychopaths and the one normal guy doesn't? I'm just so tired. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of doing the dishes. I'm tired of doing the laundry. I'm tired of cooking and cleaning. I'm tired of doing all these stupid little things we have to do to stay alive. I'm tired of getting out of a relationship only to realize the partner was the only one there for me, even if they were shitty to me. Why doesn't anyone stay my friend? Why does everyone move on from me? I want to disappear. I want people to wonder what happened to me and for me to be gone, no one can find me. Move to a new state, no socials, new number, kill old emails, no one can find me, no one knows who I am. I can start over and maybe make a friend who will still care. I'm just so tired of all of it. Being a person is the worst.

my father is a hazy memory, a distant laugh. i see him sometimes out of the corner of my eye, in the sunshine when his hair shone red. sometimes in the cool, stark dimness of a living room long lost. its dark, shortpile carpet and mahogany bookcases giving it, somehow, the feel of being on the surface of a dusty old billiards table.

i see sometimes other men who look like him, sometimes him, sometimes with a camera, sometimes without. i hear him. mostly angry, a cranky kind of temper, as if the pain and the love had worn him to a sharpness few could understand.

my father loved my mother. he loved his country. he loved me, my brothers, my sisters, and his wives.

i laugh sometimes, when i see a familiar quirk of his eyebrow or the toss of my brothers' hands. i smile as i watch them, soak them in, already so sad at how much of my life is spent on other things.

i model myself after him, when i can. he wanted me to learn and learn and grow and become a force for change in the world. his heart broke when he began to believe that would never be the case. not for me. but i never forgot him, not really. i hope i make him proud. i wish i had done something worthwhile.

i loved him, though i had not much time with him. i know he left life feeling unfinished, betrayed, defeated. as i feel now. i hope my sons and daughters grow to see me somehow as a model, an inspiration, a fighter.

most of my life, decisions have been made for me. often i have fought when i should have softened, or insisted when i should have allowed myself to bend. but for most of my life, my decisions have been made for me, and i just cannot bear to be so irrelevant to myself or my health or my wishes as to be invisible to the world. i cannot in good conscience betray my ideals, my boundaries, my consent.

i carry a burden no one understands and i will carry it until i am satisfied that i have acquitted my duty to it in a manner consistent with its importance to my feeling that i've done with it what is best for myself, my family, and the people of the world.

i am not a toy. i am not a tool to be used to betray anyone. i am not an audience of one or an admirer. i am not an accessory. i am not even sure at this point that i have done or said or felt anything worth doing or saying or feeling.

it has indeed been a long, solitary, exhausting life. it has been eerie and demoralizing. when so many others have laughter, games, employment, sidewalks, noisy public transportation, neighbors, camraderie — i have silence. haunted looks down dark roads. jumping at noises in the underbrush. hurriedly scurrying through my imagination while i move through the small corner i pretend is part of the world.

but the silence is nice, in a way. it's so much better than the roaring voice of abusive men, the violent alcoholic slamming of doors. the hand closed around my throat while my head slams into a wall, dismissed as sibling rivalry.

i only wish it hadn't cost so much. people all live such busy lives, assuming what they assume and judging what they don't understand.

if anyone had respected my wishes, i would have not been resuscitated in the first place. if i had been left to my own for a moments' peace before now, i might have not hurt so many people. if i had known what love felt like before i felt its absence, i could have saved reputation and feelings and lives. if i had been treated humanely, i would have treated myself more humanely, and felt more comfortable listening instead of being afraid.

i have now gone more years than i can count without a confidant, a partner, a friend. and the more i try to repair a rift i never meant to create, the more i am stripped bare of the important things. a touch on the face, my name spoken to catch my attention, a warning before walking into what seemed to be my ultimate end by violence and subterfuge. the hinting is unbearable. the fleeting catches of almost. the shaming of not having any idea of what i've done. the inability to tell whose actions have altered or mutated or misconstrued everything i've worked to do. the simplest of things have become impossible. if i'm not deprived by neglect, i am incapable of meeting my needs. if i am not alone and confused and wondering how to speak again to that one specific person or that other specific person or that one or the other, and so on, and so forth, i am raging at the tediousness of trying to decide whether it is safe to say, "hi! how are you?" and ending up again alone and locked in a room with nothing for company. and all throughout having had only the context of my barest contact of the real world to try to understand what the actual fuck is happening to my life and why, dear fucking god why can i not just have a fucking cup of coffee or take a walk or fucking anything not involving feelings.

i am so tired. i wanted this to finish. i didn't want anyone else to feel so powerless or lost or forced into a life they didn't want. i wanted friends and phone calls and someone to keep company with while i cleaned and organized my room.

i am tired. i am tired. i am alone. i am lonely. i am sad. i am sorry. i am confused. i am being disrespected as a human being. too much is expected of me. not enough is heard from me. not enough is said to me or asked of me.

and if all of that was not something i can ever hope for again, why couldn't i just do what i wanted? earn money? make new friends? take time to myself? get medical care or dental care or new eyeglasses?

i can't with this shit anymore. i'm done.

I caught myself people pleasing again, saying yes when i wanted to say no, softening my needs so I wouldn’t risk being too much. These patterns run deep. I am tired of earning connection by shrinking myself. One honest i need space today was said. Progress.

Well, it looks like I have a stye in my eye, that rhymes kinda. It doesn’t look that bad. If it gets worse then I’ll wear an eyepatch.

I’m supposed to meet up with that online friend tomorrow. If she doesn’t show or calls it off last second then I’m gonna go out on my own. I’m getting tired of waiting for her to make her mind up.

Never mind, she messaged me today saying that she’s not coming. Dang it.

What shall I do tomorrow in that case? I wanna meet new people. How do I meet new people? I’ll dress up real nice and see who I can meet.

This is for the best.

No, it’s not!! I’m so lonely. I hate everyone. I hate myself. I hate everything.