|
|
|
I don't want to do anything. But not in a good, hedonisticly lazy kind of way.
In a bad, rotting and putrid kind of inactivity.
I'm too reliant on another's well being. A specific other whose well being is sub par at most.
I don't want to change anything. I don't want to change. I don't want. I don't. Please don't.
I wrote too soon, the last episode is the perfect fairytale relationship.
The kind I wanted in high school,
The kind that's too toxic for words, where your perfect match is yours because you make each other worse.
The kind of dynamic I read a million fics about, getting off on their vile actions.
The kind I almost had. The kind I broke off before I wrecked myself too badly.
I'm not saying I regret it.
But maybe if I had another opportunity, with a better partner, I won't hold myself back as well.
There's this show on netflix- 'Soulmates', it's Black Mirror for love and relationships.
I think it's interesting, how people look at it differently. How difficult and destructive it can be, that hope for that perfect feeling that would fix you. The thought that you can find someone that would make you love yourself as much as you love them and you'll finally be happy.
It's an interesting fantasy, a great character study technique.
I wouldn't wish it on any of us.
כרגיל, אני מבולבלת.
הכימיה במוח משתוללת, קשה להתרכז והכל מעורפל. זאת דרך אחת להעביר את הימים, היא לא גרועה יותר מאחרות. אני לא יודעת אם היא המועדפת עליי, לפעמים ההרגשה הזאת מכבידה עלי כל כך שאני מאבדת שיווי משקל.
וזאת עבודה כל כך קשה לשמור על יציבות, דורש כל כך הרבה כוחות ומאמץ ובסוף אין אפילו את הכיף של שרירים תפוסים.
כמו תמיד, אני לא יודעת מה לעשות.
Am I really starting another active-antsy-fidgty period?
Gonna do a bunch of stupid things?
Gross. I don't want too. I want to stay in bed, under the covers.
It's getting harder.
And just like always I'm going to disappoint everyone nd hurt them again.
I'm sorry. I really am. I just can't hold on.
It's happening again.
The change in mood, the restlessness, the weight on my chest and the twisting of my stomach.
I hate this. I hate that I'm alone in this.
I don't really want anybody else in this.
I want to sleep. I want to sleep so bad and for so long. Forever if possible.
Just don't want anybody to hurt.
Don't want me to hurt either.
I don't know how to deal.
I mean, I do, I've been doing it all my life,
I just don't have the energy.
I'm sick, I'm tired, I want to be done.
I know why I can't be done, not yet,
I just resent it.
I don't want to
I don't want to
I don't want to
Fuuuucccckkkk
Leave me to die alone.
I don't know if I need to write more to handle my feelings or that I write too much and need to learn to let them go.
Is it even possible?
I know I have trouble communicating, and that it's a good thing I do it more and better as I get older.
But there's a reason it's hard. And part of that is that I don't want to burden others.
So finding the balance between communicating to help others but doing it in a helpful yet not hurtful way is fucking hard.
I tend to over apologize, which can be counterproductive. It's a very fine line.
I'm fucking shit.
It's not what the post is about, but does anyone ever apologize to their therapist?
Fuckkkk
Headache and heartache and insomnia and stomach pain and everything to make me hate being alive.
Hate with a burning, all consuming, action driving, contempt for everything 'living'.
I really need to sleep.
Preferably forever.
