9.20.2018

hello, blog i'm not doing so hot today. or yesterday. or this life. this is the only coping mechanism i can think to turn to i'm hoping my current emotional state truly is the result of over imbibing on herbs to calm said state. granted, without the thoughts and feelings that irritate me now i wouldn't have ever NEEDED those herbs in the first place, but perhaps the extent to which they burden me in this moment is being magnified. it's hard to say, i've done so much to supress, ignore, and medicate away what i feel. where to even start? the loneliness i've literally felt since my earliest childhood social experiences? the automatic feelings of rejection i felt before they happened, and the confirmation of being mocked and jeered by the group when i was too sad and insecure to join? the fact that some of my earliest friendships felt, even at that tiny, tiny age, out of pity? that my friends felt themselves superior to me, scornful of whatever shortcomings of mine they perceived? my mom always told me this was a result of jealousy and that was easy to believe but i wonder. i think it's more that i just have always truly been a little different. in media we revere this a la the "underdog" trope but like so many romantic characters and concepts in fiction, in real life it is very very different, hence our desire to create a more palatable "reality" in books and movies where the cruel and harsh truths of reality don't apply this won't be the first post i've made like this one, not by a long shot. i make these journals in secret and pour my darkest thoughts and fears into them, the truths i'm only willing to admit when i'm in the most pain, and then i never look at them again. if they were made of paper i'd have burned them yes, my loneliness and alienation have always been a theme. these traits in me have grown by an entire order of magnitude as i've grown, in my adult years having grown profoundly alienated from my family whom barely even bothers to contact me anymore, after my years of withdrawing myself. i have one single friend who contacts me almost as seldomly since i almost never contact her, we're not close, the conversation is always forced as hell and treated like an unenviable chore on my end. i suspect it's almost a charity work on her end. she's a good person. then i have my ex - a person i, frankly, handed too much responsibility to. i wanted him to be my only person, i thought he wanted that of me. he didn't. terror management is a concept i'm too painfully familiar with. i feel human relationships are one of the only things, philosophically and i think even objectively from a purely material standpoint, that give meaning to our tiny insignificant specks of existence within this overwhelming expanse of time and space in which we dwell. i revere sciences and explorations and understanding of the universe, but ultimately it's almost as though those pursuits exist to serve our collective. well, i suppose that's not true. i think my feelings really are just getting the best of me. but this is torture. the weed break i went through yesterday definitely gave me a glimpse into just how poor a condition i've let my body fall into. the pain from my muscles and stomach were unbearable. even now i attempt to breath deep and i can feel the band of muscles around my abdomen has restricted, as so often happens when i do not eat for a long enough span of time. then i can't breath fully, and i can't imagine a lack of oxygen is conducive to feeling just a-ok fuck me man. if i've said it once i've said it a million times, this whole "being human" thing is for the fucking birds

posted by Passenger Pigeon @ 13:39