well, it's been a while since I've wrote here!
Again, dunno how appropriate it is to kinda vent on here but ya know, feeling lonely so imma scream out into the void.
Fair trigger warning for anyone reading this, it's a bit of a darker vent, sorry

Some may have seen on my bsky I went to Goldenhorn 2025, and saw what happened while there.
For those who don't know: Goldenhorn is a lil slovenian con really close to the italian border, so it's packed full of italians. This was my first year attending and I was really excited, mostly because these are the only real chances I have of seeing some of my online furry friends. I can say there were some really good moments, an early bday party done with two friends who have bdays very close to mine, which was super fun; or the moment when I've out on a fake pair of D cup sized breasts, which looking back onto I can say it was the only night where I was really chill and happy throughout the con.
That was until it wasn't chill anymore, because around 1 AM on saturday night (the last night at the con) we ended up in a terrorist attack basically, masked attackers came in to beat people up and spray powder fire extinguishers on people. It was an organized hate crime basically. Truly a night of terror that we initially spent locked up in a room packed full of people, both that I knew and didn't.
The rest of the night was spent in my room (during the attack I was in another party room, and then was escorted along with security to mine) with my roommate, refusing to sleep until the dawn.
I came out unharmed physically fortunately, but I can't say the same mentally.
I'm pretty sure many of you see my annoying vents all around so you can tell I wasn't exactly in my best shape before this, and this is only making everything much harder.
Especially since right after the attack I even had more trouble with a person I considered a "friend", and eventually completely broke up with. Basically I've stayed in panic mode for two full days, and even though I had some slight relief once back in my house it's all slowly starting to catch up with me.

Coming back to home wasn't easy either, my coworkers are like the most unsupportive people ever and most of them laughed it off, either asking "what were you even doing here" or "were you all on drugs and imagined all this". That + the distance from the people I've shared the trauma with and had a chance of talking to to cope is really weighing me down. Feeling the loneliest I've ever been.

This situation really made me reconsider some relationships/friendships both in good and bad, but I can say it brought out the worst of pretty much everyone.
At this point I'm spending all the time at home either sleeping or rotting in bed, unable to do much more. I'd like to believe it'll pass, but knowing myself I know it won't.
It's also hard to cope with the fact that friends seem more interested in talking with the people who've hurt me rather than me, makes me wanna just disappear along with all the rest of the shit that's happening in my mind.

I honestly don't know if I can make it out of this, I hope I can, but if I don't, then those few nice moments where I was suffering a bit less were cool. It's hard to say if I've ever had an actual "good" time without it being just an illusion or a fake happiness or me being played for a fool, but yea at least there were some slight moments where suffering wasn't a constant overwhelming feeling.
The feeling of being just a background character is stronger than ever, like I know some people think about me sometimes but at the same time I know for a fact despite what people say that if I went missing it wouldn't be that big of a matter. And please, I appreciate all your wonderful words and thoughts and I'm very sorry if I sound rude, but I'm really not in the headspace to read that people would care because I'm so down in this and it's been so long that people have been saying that I matter but I'm literally unable to see/believe it, both in myself and in most people's actions.
I'm not an interesting person and there's not much worth to save, or at least, people try to comfort me by saying im good at art, and I appreciate that, but the way it's repeated really tells me that it's the only worthwhile aspect in my whole life.