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Random Ranting
12 years ago
Finally, a journal that's not pointing to art raffles I want to be in. :P
Deciding to type this up because I'm having (yet another) hard time sleeping at half past 2 in the morning. And sorry if this seems a bit odd in some way, but there's no need to read it in that case.
Ever have those times when you just feel, for lack of a better word, broken? When you have those fun moments of being all hyper, yet having nothing that you can think of to apply that energy to? Being all mopey, but having it come out as trying to be overly cuddly to just about everyone you meet?
Yeah. That's me right now. Hurting (emotionally, in some ways), going insane, and desperately trying to find some form of companionship that my commitment-shy brain can deal with. Add in a lack of meds, a bit of hunger due to eating issues, and a touch of lifelong sleeplessness, and you have all the problems, wrapped up into this nice little highly combustible and yet incredibly inert package. Kinda like a cat, oddly enough.*
One of the things I do so often is try to get Skype names to poke and chat at (and cuddle at, given the chance!).. And I know I do it out of some hopeless want to try to make friends in some way, despite never talking to most of them and being irritatingly nosey to the few I do chat with. I just..
Ugh. This is coming out horribly. But this is what I wanted to d, so ehh. You get to hear out my thoughts, in a way.
I guess this is a cry for help, in a way. Trying to get people to talk with, to try to stave off the monsters that I know lurk in my head, to try to get myself to not focus on the bad, the negative, the horrible half-truths that I tell myself, then end up curled up in bed crying. Trying to have something for my brain to do while it's running at a thousand miles per hour to keep it from going on about meat bicycles, bacon, zit cannons, and odd 'what-ifs' that will never be real.
I have, on a quick glance, 115 games on Steam, and who knows how many more lurking around my computer. I may have one or two that I keep going back to, but the rest just sit there gathering dust between 20-minute play sessions before I get bored with them again. I avoid watching movies because I overwatched the ones I liked, and all too often I tend to look past the presentation and see the gears, roadies, and stage crew behind it, arranging the tropes of characters, plots, and scenes in away to please the masses.
I see so much in the world that has been missed, all the chances that humans give up, all the pain and suffering that could be helped if people stopped being as self-centered as the species grew up being. I have aggression that wants to be free in some way, but is chained by reasoning, along with all the other feels that I tend to have. I feel like I'm always being fake, always trying to be that quiet, non-confrontational person when I need to take some sort of charge.
I'm too scared to try to try new things, too stubborn to change my flawed ways, and am at that horribly worrying point of apathy regarding things that I really should be worried about.
I always advise doing things that I don't, try to make logical connections with things that I know little of, try to empathize with things that I could never know.
All of this, all of the fake that I feel I am, and for what? So I can try to look better for everyone? So I can put this stupid little half-grin on, telling the world that I'm alright when inside I want to scream? One of the problems I have is that I never know when or how to ask for help - Partly because I never learned. I never felt comfortable asking for help because I felt it would be a sign of weakness that other humans would exploit. For the most part, I didn't need to ask for help in the past. And now that things have crumbled, been partly fixed, buried under a mountain of trash and lies, then dug out again, the only thing that's clear is that I still haven't learned my gorram lesson.
I try to make people happy when I can't find anything to smile at myself. I try to help them feel better when I know that I'm on the verge of falling apart. I try to help them with problems when I have way too many of my own. I offer my shoulder to cry on for people, I try to be strong, but there's always a day in the near future when I try to cry, but I have no tears left. I try to help people with getting out of depressive ruts when I myself am in far deeper than they are. My priorities are screwed up five different ways to Sunday, and I never try to fix them.
I try to be all cute and loving, but my heart's just not there. I think it got locked away back in early elementary school after an embarrassing moment on Valentine's Day. I honestly don't think I have the ability to truly love anymore.
I felt nothing when Chubby, one of our cats died. Neither did I feel much when my grandmother died. When Spooks, our other cat died. I felt a bit of worry when my cat ran away, but my logic brain kicked in and told me that he's in a better place.. Hopefully another home that has a cat. I probably won't feel a thing when Max, the dog that grew up with me, will die in the coming year.
I can't bring myself to shed a tear in the face of loss, and I can't stand that. It makes me feel angry, really. Angry at myself for being such a piss-poor example of a human being.
I won't lie. There have been many times when I have had thoughts of either horribly mutilating or killing myself. Be it as dramatic as jumping off a building or cutting my stomach open or as low-key as snapping my own neck, I do have those thoughts from time to time when my thoughts get out of control. I've had several thoughts recently regarding financial matters that I'd be more valuable dead than alive. I'm at that worrying point where I've just stopped caring. Don't get me wrong, I'll still try to keep myself alive, but I don't care if I get hit by a car, shot by someone robbing me, or poisoned by something that I ate.
I feel that I've seen enough of this world already.. Enough of the pain around me, related to me or not. Enough of the hate of people towards others. Enough of the same, all-too-human flaws I see in myself. I try to lose myself in other things, try to find interesting things to smile at or thing about, but I've trained myself to not be able to just let go.
I honestly don't really know why I bother anymore.. Why I keep trying to keep looking up, keep myself standing, keep moving forwards. So says one part of my mind. The other just keeps on droning through life, a few steps at a time. I don't really have anywhere left that I want to keep going to, but I keep moving anyways. I find myself at a bit of a loss.. I am all-too-skilled at suppressing all the feels I have, I can't bring myself to love or to commit.. Heck, I can't even get any real pleasure from anything sexual, I just do it as a habit and getting rid of an itch. Sorry for the slight TMI there, but I just had to mention that at some point in here.
This journal might not see the light of day - I might, like so many other things, decide that I'd better not post this, but if you're seeing it, well, you know how I chose.
I'm not asking for any sympathy, not asking for any kind of handouts.. Not asking for love, nor an answer for the ever-question of 'Why?'. All I want is for you to listen to this. To just hear me out in a bit of a rambling attempt at trying to put myself out there, all of the unneeded large amount of me that there is.
And now I'm drawing a blank on what to put here next, as that last bit was kinda finishing material. And for those of you that wanted to get to the summary/TL;DR section, go back up. I really want you to read this if you are up to it.
I suppose that the only thing left that I can ask, really, is for help.. Even just one person that could find a way to fix the broken feels. Knowing my luck, though..
Ehh. Also, the last bit was written at the top when I was in a slightly better mood.
*This is a disclaimer: I do not suggest lighting cats on fire. In any way. Unless they are actually immune to fire damage.
Deciding to type this up because I'm having (yet another) hard time sleeping at half past 2 in the morning. And sorry if this seems a bit odd in some way, but there's no need to read it in that case.
Ever have those times when you just feel, for lack of a better word, broken? When you have those fun moments of being all hyper, yet having nothing that you can think of to apply that energy to? Being all mopey, but having it come out as trying to be overly cuddly to just about everyone you meet?
Yeah. That's me right now. Hurting (emotionally, in some ways), going insane, and desperately trying to find some form of companionship that my commitment-shy brain can deal with. Add in a lack of meds, a bit of hunger due to eating issues, and a touch of lifelong sleeplessness, and you have all the problems, wrapped up into this nice little highly combustible and yet incredibly inert package. Kinda like a cat, oddly enough.*
One of the things I do so often is try to get Skype names to poke and chat at (and cuddle at, given the chance!).. And I know I do it out of some hopeless want to try to make friends in some way, despite never talking to most of them and being irritatingly nosey to the few I do chat with. I just..
Ugh. This is coming out horribly. But this is what I wanted to d, so ehh. You get to hear out my thoughts, in a way.
I guess this is a cry for help, in a way. Trying to get people to talk with, to try to stave off the monsters that I know lurk in my head, to try to get myself to not focus on the bad, the negative, the horrible half-truths that I tell myself, then end up curled up in bed crying. Trying to have something for my brain to do while it's running at a thousand miles per hour to keep it from going on about meat bicycles, bacon, zit cannons, and odd 'what-ifs' that will never be real.
I have, on a quick glance, 115 games on Steam, and who knows how many more lurking around my computer. I may have one or two that I keep going back to, but the rest just sit there gathering dust between 20-minute play sessions before I get bored with them again. I avoid watching movies because I overwatched the ones I liked, and all too often I tend to look past the presentation and see the gears, roadies, and stage crew behind it, arranging the tropes of characters, plots, and scenes in away to please the masses.
I see so much in the world that has been missed, all the chances that humans give up, all the pain and suffering that could be helped if people stopped being as self-centered as the species grew up being. I have aggression that wants to be free in some way, but is chained by reasoning, along with all the other feels that I tend to have. I feel like I'm always being fake, always trying to be that quiet, non-confrontational person when I need to take some sort of charge.
I'm too scared to try to try new things, too stubborn to change my flawed ways, and am at that horribly worrying point of apathy regarding things that I really should be worried about.
I always advise doing things that I don't, try to make logical connections with things that I know little of, try to empathize with things that I could never know.
All of this, all of the fake that I feel I am, and for what? So I can try to look better for everyone? So I can put this stupid little half-grin on, telling the world that I'm alright when inside I want to scream? One of the problems I have is that I never know when or how to ask for help - Partly because I never learned. I never felt comfortable asking for help because I felt it would be a sign of weakness that other humans would exploit. For the most part, I didn't need to ask for help in the past. And now that things have crumbled, been partly fixed, buried under a mountain of trash and lies, then dug out again, the only thing that's clear is that I still haven't learned my gorram lesson.
I try to make people happy when I can't find anything to smile at myself. I try to help them feel better when I know that I'm on the verge of falling apart. I try to help them with problems when I have way too many of my own. I offer my shoulder to cry on for people, I try to be strong, but there's always a day in the near future when I try to cry, but I have no tears left. I try to help people with getting out of depressive ruts when I myself am in far deeper than they are. My priorities are screwed up five different ways to Sunday, and I never try to fix them.
I try to be all cute and loving, but my heart's just not there. I think it got locked away back in early elementary school after an embarrassing moment on Valentine's Day. I honestly don't think I have the ability to truly love anymore.
I felt nothing when Chubby, one of our cats died. Neither did I feel much when my grandmother died. When Spooks, our other cat died. I felt a bit of worry when my cat ran away, but my logic brain kicked in and told me that he's in a better place.. Hopefully another home that has a cat. I probably won't feel a thing when Max, the dog that grew up with me, will die in the coming year.
I can't bring myself to shed a tear in the face of loss, and I can't stand that. It makes me feel angry, really. Angry at myself for being such a piss-poor example of a human being.
I won't lie. There have been many times when I have had thoughts of either horribly mutilating or killing myself. Be it as dramatic as jumping off a building or cutting my stomach open or as low-key as snapping my own neck, I do have those thoughts from time to time when my thoughts get out of control. I've had several thoughts recently regarding financial matters that I'd be more valuable dead than alive. I'm at that worrying point where I've just stopped caring. Don't get me wrong, I'll still try to keep myself alive, but I don't care if I get hit by a car, shot by someone robbing me, or poisoned by something that I ate.
I feel that I've seen enough of this world already.. Enough of the pain around me, related to me or not. Enough of the hate of people towards others. Enough of the same, all-too-human flaws I see in myself. I try to lose myself in other things, try to find interesting things to smile at or thing about, but I've trained myself to not be able to just let go.
I honestly don't really know why I bother anymore.. Why I keep trying to keep looking up, keep myself standing, keep moving forwards. So says one part of my mind. The other just keeps on droning through life, a few steps at a time. I don't really have anywhere left that I want to keep going to, but I keep moving anyways. I find myself at a bit of a loss.. I am all-too-skilled at suppressing all the feels I have, I can't bring myself to love or to commit.. Heck, I can't even get any real pleasure from anything sexual, I just do it as a habit and getting rid of an itch. Sorry for the slight TMI there, but I just had to mention that at some point in here.
This journal might not see the light of day - I might, like so many other things, decide that I'd better not post this, but if you're seeing it, well, you know how I chose.
I'm not asking for any sympathy, not asking for any kind of handouts.. Not asking for love, nor an answer for the ever-question of 'Why?'. All I want is for you to listen to this. To just hear me out in a bit of a rambling attempt at trying to put myself out there, all of the unneeded large amount of me that there is.
And now I'm drawing a blank on what to put here next, as that last bit was kinda finishing material. And for those of you that wanted to get to the summary/TL;DR section, go back up. I really want you to read this if you are up to it.
I suppose that the only thing left that I can ask, really, is for help.. Even just one person that could find a way to fix the broken feels. Knowing my luck, though..
Ehh. Also, the last bit was written at the top when I was in a slightly better mood.
*This is a disclaimer: I do not suggest lighting cats on fire. In any way. Unless they are actually immune to fire damage.
I don't think you're too out there, at least just from this. Everyone has some of those thoughts from time to time. One thing I've noticed is, you tend to keep things abstract. Talking about events and the sources would probably help a lot more, in that there would be something tangible to deal with.
Also, this was written when I was in a bit of a bad mood.. In a better one now, at least.