I don't know how to be part of things. My whole life I feel like I am watching other people participate in the world, and I'm just watching from the outside. I don't know how to break through and connect with people and things, it's like they have some capacity that I don't. Don't get me wrong, I survive, I have a job and apartment. I just feel so detached from everything, like I don't have the capacity to care about things or love anyone.
I’ll never admit to getting old and feeling tired. That’s for other people to do.
I was unemployed for the past 8 months or so. I never tried dating as I figured no one wants to date a jobless person considering the first question everyone here has is: what do you do for work?!?!?
Now i am working, making good money and im so exhausted all the time i dont even have the energy to chat on Tinder. Lol. Oh well. Whatever.
They are everywhere right now along sea walls, and patio's and parks. They are so obvious by their clashing clothes, their awkward paired walking. I freaking love it. No FOMO, no envy, just warms my heart seeing the world and spring emerge. Even the cynic in me does not care the percentage that will make it to date 2. Spring has sprung. Nothing lasts, but watching love trickle out of isolation is helping my heart beat.
I recently found out that I am not the eldest of two children, but the middle child of three. My mother had an abortion before I was born. I’m only here because my dad wanted to have children and told my mother he would divorce her if she had another abortion. I feel like this explains my childhood and really my whole life.
In the last couple of months my earliest memory of life has been flooding back to the forefront of my mind. The first thing I remember is my baptism when I was a baby. My parents decided to baptize me in the Greek Orthodox Church. All I remember is the priest clutching my body with his big hands. I’m cold, naked and wet just crying my eyes out, while being watched by all those people sitting in the pews. Some old friends and relatives who passed away in the last couple of years. All I wanted was to go home and be in my warm cozy crib. That’s all I wanted. Nothing more. My mom had told me years later that I had a cold. She didn’t have time to cancel the occasion at the last minute so she decided to make due with the situation. It scars me in some respects, and I’ve often wondered if perhaps talking to a psychotherapist of some sort might help me learn to cope So that I’ll never have to think or cry about my first living nightmare ever again.
My boss likes to email and message me at 7am on workdays, despite the fact that the official working hours are 9-5. Everyday he sends these requests, orders, demands for me to do something at 7am. At first I responded, thinking I’m “getting stuff done”. But then I realized I am a sucker to extend my workday like that. I don’t get paid for working 2 hours earlier, so I decided I will only log on at 9am and respond to all the queries/demands then. As if being subjugated for 8 hours isn’t humiliating enough, being dominated over before you’ve even had coffee and breakfast is worse.
Mammals go into heat… except for humans apparently?! I call bullshit. I am most definitely not cool right now. I am tired, I want someone to touch me and not annoy me and I want someone here - but that also feels overwhelming and scary and this is incredibly uncomfortable. Is there an off switch to this? Do I just need to drink an exorbitant amount of soy milk? Cold shower? Shudder. No thanks. Testosterone sucks. This really sucks.
So I’m in my almost mid 20’s and I’ve been through the foster care system growing up, I was 6 when I went in and a huge part of me now is trying to get answers from my parents. We don’t have the best connection and I haven’t and don’t talk to them very often. I saw them in person a year back now and my purpose was to get those difficult questions answered but I cowered away and pretty much left after the first hour with them. Those questions never got answered and I feel like it’s been slowly eating at me for the past year, I feel like I need the answers to know myself and understand. Idk tho. The answers I get I guess is what scares me most. I’m going to plan a trip again to go see them. I need answers
As I rewatch Stranger Things to prepare for season 4 I noticed something. It hits differently than before. It feels scarier but I couldn’t put my finger on why. I then realized I first watched the show in 2016. Between then and now, I was in a car accident and had an experience with psychosis. Watching Winona Ryders character felt terrifying this time. To know what it feels like on the inside and witness how chaotic things appear on the outside. The desperate desire to be believed that something sinister is afoot. Yet in this story of suspended reality Occam’s razor is a blunt tool unable to scratch the surface. How comfortable I felt following the story before that experience, scoffing at disbelief and embracing the unbelievable. This time I tread more carefully, mindful of how easy it can be to slip.