Sunday, February 20, 2022

huh

 so


it turns out that "maybe i should drain out some blood from my arms, and see if that helps" 

is called "suicidal ideation."

i wish i had friends.  or loved ones.  or could love a one, if it came down to it.


i wake up just wanting hugs, and then curl up to have nightmares of being murdered by grabby zombies.

i hate this.  i just want what i see other people having.  someone to share a life with.  someone who doesn't turn into grabby zombies.

6 comments:

  1. Hey, just sending a hug your way. There, all non-grabby, non-zombie-y and stuff.

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  2. i've been in (as you can probably guess), a bad place.

    mentally.

    i'm doing ok as "living" and "doing a work" and "supporting the body" so i'm counting that as a win.

    i'm doing bad at "sleeping without chemicals" and "understanding the world outside of the pandemic" and "oh, so we have a war now too. GREAT!"

    i wish i could write more. i know there's a lot of my writing that really need some oppression to work through. it isn't working so well this time.

    "what is a grabby zombie"?

    IDK. when you take drugs (clinically, even), you get a removal from your thoughts that make those thoughts hard to explain.

    did you know that i haven't touched a human in like two years? girl at the taco bell window who grabs my credit card doesn't count. two years. that's like four percent of my life, lost to isolation. i write these isolation stories, ignoring how much i know that deforms the brain, how much that makes regular thinking so so so hard.

    i don't know if i'm more afraid of this continuing forever, or if it all subsiding, and i have to learn how to work in society again is more scary. i think the second. the first gives me a clear fear, and i can fight to avoid it. the second just tells me that i've removed myself from humanity, and humanity doesn't care to let me return.


    saw today that we're probably in "too late, climate change is going to murder us, we just can control how fast that murder happens." proud i chose "no kids". proud i pushed my mental illness out as much as possible to stop people from associating with me.

    wish i had a soft shoulder to cry on for the next decade before things get even worse. wish you were real, randvi. i'll cope as i can. :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

    ReplyDelete
  3. I hope things have improved for you since March. Just because you have an illness doesn't mean you can't be touched or even loved. There are plenty of soft shoulders out there, even if some of them are professional caregivers. Take advantage of those opportunities. And now, there's 988, if things get really bad. Hang in there. I have seen plenty of places on the Web where people appreciate you. Stay healthy for those people, as well as yourself!

    ReplyDelete