crumblingmetropolis

[crumblingmetropolis]

Crying Over...??? - 11.10.2019

 I dunno? I was crying because I’m lonely, I was crying because I’m fat, I was crying because no one likes me, I was crying because I’ve been out of my parents’ house for more than a year and I’m still not happy, I was crying because I wasn’t good enough for Joe. And then ofc, because I have no self control, I visited his Twitch and his IG and his Twitter, which all just, like, prove what a loser he was and still is and how I technically dodged a bullet. But it doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him to even break up with me himself. I wasn’t good enough to tell me himself that after eight years of friendship and a year of dating, he was done with me.

And honestly, if I wasn’t good enough for some bitchboy who dropped out of community college to work at Target part time with aspirations to become a Twitch streamer, who am I good enough for? Like, do I need to really scrape the bottom of the barrel just to find someone who wants me? Am I really this unlovable?

Guess I am.

[crumblingmetropolis]

This Ain't It, Chief - 10.20.2019

I don't fucking want this. I don't want to be here in this place. I need to move.

Like, I'm pretty sure 99% of this is because I'm less than a week to my period and my stress relief activity(running) has been taken away from my bum ass foot(I haven't run in a week and it's driving me nuts).

I hate it here. I hate feeling like I can't reach out to anyone. I hate that all my hobbies are old lady hobbies, so when I try to do them here, I only have the option to talk to old people, and I don't fucking want to only be social with old people! I cannot make internet references or meme jokes or popular media jokes to old people because they don't get it! I have tried!

I hate having such a garbage normalcy meter! How do people contact other people! Am I just supposed to text people! I want to hang out with people! But my only options for socialization in this stupid fucking city are single men my age who I don't want to mistake my friendliness for flirting! Or people twice or the times my age! And there's no girls here! Except for the one chick who only sees me as a vent hole! Fuck this fucking city god!

I just need to make it one more year. I'll have my student loans paid off and I'll have my emergency fund fully funded and I can pay my job to let me go and I can leave this hell hole.

Why do I always feel the need to run away.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Spinel - 10.11.2019

is this how it works, am i doing it right

They say you shouldn’t seek external validation. My brain decides that external validation shouldn’t be requested at all. In any form. Not friendship, not romance. Especially because I want both so fucking badly. And my brain has decided that I am Not Allowed to Want things.

Except that everything I read for self improvement says to really spend a long time thinking hard about what you want before setting goals, making decisions, etc. And like, this ain’t it chief.

I don’t mind living in the middle of nowhere. I don’t mind working in software. I don’t mind being the only female and 40 shades darker than my darkest coworker(my team consists of me and four very pale white men, all four of which are blonde, and three of which have blue eyes). But, like, it occurs to me, I don’t fucking Want any of this. I don’t Want to live here. I don’t Want to sit in front of a computer just doing software with no hardware. I don’t think I even Want to be an engineer anymore(I made it 14 months). I don’t Want to be the only girl and the only person of any color in my work team. I don’t Want to be stuck in this tiny ass town. I don’t Want to work on my EIT.

I can’t change any of this right now. I’m tied to my student loans(which will be paid off in, like, five months if I stick to this budget). And then I’m tied to this job because they gave me a (measly) signing bonus for a three year contract.

But maybe I can try to Deserve friends, right?

Except I’m almost certain half the people in my favorite online community hate me(or at the very least, dislike interacting with me). And I can’t talk to people in person - I’m not fucking there yet.

I’m NOT FUCKING THERE YET it’s been fourteen months and I can’t even trust anyone in this podunk ass town to text because everything feels bad! Texting anyone feels like an invasion of their time! I’m pretty sure no one here cares about me! Half of it is because I hate myself so much that I don’t want to be seen anywhere! So I just stay home! Except when I go to Starbucks to fucking study for this EIT that I don’t even fucking Want!

God I fucking need to smoke. I haven’t had a cigar in seven years but all I’ve wanted to do all week is go to the cigar lounge and see if they have Acid Kuba Kuba(my favorite back in the day, if I’m remembering correctly).

I’m not fucking doing this right. I’m trying so fucking hard there. I’m engaging with people, focusing outside of myself as often as I can without completely throwing my own interests under the bus. And they still fucking hate me and I don’t know how to change myself so they’ll like me.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Wood - 1.19.19

It’s the last fucking straw. This fucker rolls up whenever the fuck he wants, sleeps on the couch, uses up space in the fridge, and I swear to god. I want to fucking deck him.

I’ve lived here for less than six months and he’s slept on the couch no fewer than two full weeks, maybe three. On and off. Over the course of less than six months.

And last weekend, he brought a strange man into the house and let him sleep on the couch. Landlord claimed they were going to fix the heater. Not only did they not fix the heater, but they left a giant mess in the garage, left the laundry room in disarray, AND FUCKNG USED MY FUCKING WOOD.

I HAD TO GATHER THAT WOOD MYSELF. FROM MY PARENTS HOUSE. IT WAS MY FUCKING WOOD THAT I GOT BECAUSE HE TOOK HIS SWEET FUCKING TIME TO FIX THE HEATER. A FUCKING MONTH THROUGH THE COLDEST PART OF THE FUCKING WINTER. AND HE USED ALL OF IT BUT ONE LOG. God fucking DAMMIT.

I wish I could retaliate someway legally, and I have a new place but the law would take to log and the burden of proof would be on me, and I’d have to get a lawyer. And I can’t trash the place because then I won’t get my full security deposit back.

But I know how I’ll get even. And it’s gonna be sooo fucking sweet.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Bike - 8.29.18

Today I had an interview for a position within my job. I thought I was doing well until I started getting in my head about how much better all the other candidates(except for one) were than me, and then I got in my head about how everyone there hated me, and how everyone there thought I was annoying and stupid and didn’t deserve my degree, and then how that’s how everyone in my current position feels, and then to how visible I feel, like everyone’s watching me, which makes me paranoid anxious, and then the dude who says hi to me every morning and asks me to get lunch every day waved to me while I was leaving and I swear I almost snapped and had a breakdown.

Instead, I went to the gym, sat on the hard horrible seat of a stationary bike, and pedaled my poor little legs off for 35 minutes until I felt better. Then I got a nice bottle of bougie sparkling water and called my mom.

During lunch, a friend called and reminded me why I was okay with not staying in contact with him. He is so....unbelievably frustrating. And I don’t have the energy or need to deal with him anymore.

I’m tired now, and going to go to sleep, but damn. Counting down the days until my probation ends and I can get a new job further north.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Heartbreak - 8.28.18

At the ripe old age of every single day between the ages of eleven until I started dating my first ever boyfriend at twenty-two, I swore up and down that I needed a significant other, that if the universe would just let me be happy with someone for a little while, I could handle any heartbreak regardless of how painful it was because it would be worth that little bit of happiness.

I was a fucking moron between the ages of eleven and twenty-two. I couldn’t have imagined the kind of pain and grief a breakup could cause me. I was literally incapable of imagining and thus empathizing with the shitshow that happens inside your brain and body when someone you loved with your heart and soul decides they no longer love you, or how much worse it is when they abandon you with no explanation.

I was dumped on March 4th, and I’ve only begun to feel my wounds scar over nearly six months later. The anguish I went through was indescribable, and this was just a regular breakup with a selfish manchild. I cannot put into words how much more horrible it must be if there are further extenuating circumstances, and I feel for everyone else who had their hearts shattered.

Time heals all wounds, but damn it’s fucking awful when it takes this long. But now I’m at the point where I know confidently and undeniably that I Fucking Deserve Better. We all Fucking Deserve Better.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Flee - 8.22.18

I am not what you would call a person of routine. I can appreciate a nice routine, but if that routine does not suit me in, often in truly trivial ways, I don’t want it.

I’m not settled in here, not yet, and I don’t know if I will ever. I mean, of course, that’s extreme, I’ve been here for exactly three weeks. But I just. It takes me so long to settle in anywhere, and I just want to fucking run from this place. I always want to run away from everything that makes me uncomfortable or feel unsettled or unstable(like a table that’s missing a leg, not like a mentally unstable way).

I haven’t decided if I want the big room or not, and while I’m indecisive, I haven’t hung any art or anything on the walls because I don’t know how long I’ll be in this room. I haven’t decided if I’m going to stay in [[REDACTED]], or whether I’ll run off somewhere to where there’s not so many fucking alumni from my school who might know me and know what a fucking failure I am. I haven’t decided if I want to date or whether I’d rather just be single for a little while longer, haven’t decided whether I would try online dating in this tiny town or try going out and being social, haven’t decided if I want to try to maintain relationships with everyone I left behind or just start fresh and pretend this chapter of my life is entirely unrelated to my old one.

I’m just, stuck here, in limbo, unable to make a damn decision, because I don’t think I’m worth the decision, I guess. Today I put on my cubicle that I needed to be decisive, advice from Avatar Roku, and that regret is not a function of the correct choice, but of indecision, advice from that one black gynecologist with the smile that could cure cancer, and that when I make a decision, I should take steps to make it the correct decision. But....I can’t even make the decision fully because there’s so many other little decisions to make alongside it.

I made the decision to move here to [[REDACTED]], partially because it was the only offer I got, partially because I didn’t want to keep jobhunting. But now I can’t even fucking unpack and put my art up because six months isn’t long enough and I’ll have to pull it all down again. I don’t want to settle in here because what if I decide to move in six months, I’ll have to pack everything up, and if I get rid of all my boxes I’ll have to find new ones...

But this isn’t fair to me. I should be moving forward withe my life, not getting stuck in this idea that I can’t only settle down in my permanent home. Six months is a pretty damn long time, and I might decide to stay here even longer, maybe I’ll stay here until I find a nice SO to move in with, get myself a cute wife and she’ll work at the school and I’ll work at the [[REDACTED]] and we’ll get a little corgi and watch Netflix in the evenings together curled up on the the couch with my legs sprawled out around her shoulders on her lap and our little pup Titan will be curled up on my chest BUT. But. But. I can’t. Get there. Unless I fucking make my decision correct. Boxes aren’t expensive or difficult to get ahold of, and I’m happy here, I don’t really want or need more room. I’m making enough money that I can get some moving help should I need it, and I might not even need it. I’m so afraid of the labor of moving that I’ve made just trying to live a labor and I didn’t need to. I just. I need to move forward. I have made my decision, it’s time to stick with it, instead of thinking I should be fleeing. I can do this.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Sunrise - 8.18.18

(Written in a Wifi-less park on 8.18.18, but posted on 8.21.18)

I woke up this morning a little after four, after just absolutely knocking the fuck out sometime before seven(possibly before six! ha!), feeling more at peace than I’ve felt at all over the last two weeks.

I figured out who Connor reminded me of(hint hint, it wasn’t the fictional character whose hair he had, it was a real man whose eyes I will never forget) and that brought me back to why I never ended up with said real man. Austin was….something else. My dad always says he knew the moment I knew my crush was over was when he said he’d never seen Star Wars, but it was a different moment, when he referred to indigenous people watching a livestream of our (then) pastor on livestream as a bunch of idiots in the jungle. There were a lot of really great Austin moments, and I believe he would have grown and changed his views, or at least gotten a litlte more respectful, but still. I hope he’s doing well.

I came up to the top of College Heights to watch the sunrise over the mountain, because I’m not entirely familiar with the city yet so I don’t really know where a good spot to find the top of the mountains would be and it was the highest point I could find within ten minutes. It’s so true that you can just go, like, anywhere within city limits within ten minutes. It’s actually kinda hilarious.

A couple days ago, I gave myself time to figure out how to find closure and peace about Joe (and the MTL group and moving to [[REDACTED]]) and all that. I don’t know how long it will take. He honestly, he fucking broke my heart. He hurt me so badly and I don’t know how I managed to keep the pain stuffed down long enough to graduate. Like. He was one of my best friends since I was a teenager, and I loved him desperately. I wanted and believed it would work, even when all the evidence and my logical sense said it wasn’t and couldn’t. I knew the problems in the relationship going in - his untreated mental illnesses, my untreated mental illnesses, his selfish tendencies, my tendency to be a people pleaser, his vicious untrained dog(with untreated mental issues), and both of our conflict avoidant behaviors - and I still believed we could make it work. A year ago, we were talking about marriage. I mean, it was early to be talking about that, I guess, but I’m just. He brought it up first. He told me he wanted to marry me one day. I really believed we were going to have this great happily ever after where I’d work, he’d stream, I’d have good enough health insurance to get him his hormones and top surgery, he’d have good enough connections to get me into video game conferences, and then he had to go and break my fucking heart. He didn’t even have the fucking decency to tell me himself. I mean, I should have known the moment I walked out of the airport. He showed up in a car he couldn’t afford with the most bored look on his face, and he didn’t even want to kiss me. He didn’t want to kiss me all day, until his dog scared me half to death and BIT ME, and when I laid down to go to sleep after crying in the bathroom, his ass had the audacity to give me shitty bedroom eyes so he could fuck me. AND OF COURSE my ass was excited that he was finally acting like he wanted me that I stuffed down the fact that I’d gotten bitten so we could have sex, and then once he got his jollies, he gave up on eating me out after about ten shitty seconds and said he was tired and went to sleep. I’m fucking just. And then his grandpa(the one he didn’t like) died so I went home early and he proceeded to slowly ghost me, even though he was supposed to come visit me in March(and I’d gotten us a room to stay in and everything so we could have privacy). I put so much of myself and my heart into the relationship and after his dog bit me I knew it wasn’t going to work so I was going to break up with him after the trip so we could have a grown ass conversation about why this wasn’t going to work and maybe we shouldn’t be dating anymore and he couldn’t even have the decency to fucking text me that he wasn’t coming and that he didn’t want to speak with me anymore. You know how he dumped me? He had. His mom. TEXT ME. To say he wasn’t coming to California and he wouldn’t be in contact with me and hoped that I would respect his privacy. Oh, sure, that’s real fucking cool. Have your MOM text me you immature fuck you’re just a 20 year old grown ass adult you can at least tell me you never loved me and you don’t want to be with me or even talk to me yourself. God, he’s such a fucking coward and I don’t know why I’ve spent the last five months wondering where it went wrong. The writing was on the wall. I mean. Logically. My feelings definitely said otherwise, still say otherwise. I miss what we could have had, what we had over the summer, but I deserved better. I deserve better. I’m tired of being so fucked up over this fuckboy that I can’t even talk to people because I think that’s what everyone will do to me.

I mean, how much better than him am I. I ghosted “Berry” and I ghosted my MTL friends. I pretty much went dead on social media all summer. I was hurting, but that doesn’t give me an excuse to hurt everyone else. If I even did. No one reached out to me(except the one adult, and I’d just joined the group mid-summer but I think she’s an exception. She literally astounds me fucking constantly with her ability to be patient and caring for other people while taking care of her own mental health and life. Honestly, adult goals.), so I can’t imagine anyone was bothered by my absence. This should bother me more(and normally it does), but I don’t want to base my worth on interactions with other people. I mean, that’s usually what keeps me in the pit is the cycle of “no one cares about me” and “why doesn’t anyone care about me”. I mean, I’m still highkey annoyed that I had to pull myself out of the pit myself - like I always fucking have to - and I still wouldn’t object to someone holding and petting me while I cry like a lot. I mean, I guess I didn’t do this one completely alone. I started using this app, Youper, which is a cognitive behavioral therapy AI, and I’ve been using it for about a week and I’m starting to see patterns in my thinking, not necessarily to fix them right away, but being aware of them is surprisingly helpful. Once my health insurance kicks in(if it ever does lol, not even sure I can get my own yet), I can get therapy, maybe once a week or biweekly, and it’ll be a little better then too.

The sun is officially over the mountains now. It’s gorgeous.

[crumblingmetropolis]

But It’s Better If I Don’t - 8.15.18

It’s just better if I’m here alone. The only person I can rely on is myself, and no one should be near me because all I do is bum everyone out.

I don’t know if I’ll ever go back. Even considering it makes me simultaneously nauseous and lonelier than ever. I want to be a part of that world so badly, and yet, I know without a shadow of a doubt, as a cold, hard Fact, that I will never belong there or anywhere.

[crumblingmetropolis]

I Was Right - 8.11.18

Sometimes anxiety gets a win that just knocks it straight out of the park.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Survival - 8.8.18

I just need to survive until my paycheck and my health benefits kick in and I can finally get this therapy that I so clearly need.

self harm tw below the cut

My coping methods are so fucked. I can either drink, eat, or cut. Drinking puts me in a better mood bc I’m fortunately a happy drunk and is likely the least harmful of the three since I can’t drink much and don’t enjoy the act of drinking much. Eating is the next worst bc I will definitely eat compulsively until the feeling good part has diminishing returns. Cutting is the worst, obv, bc permanent scars and I don’t feel better after, I just feel empty. I mean, I already feel empty so.

Cont: I mean. Not empty. Empty later. Fuck what all the fucking people who’ve never fucking cut say about “using ice cubes” and “snap your wrist with a rubber band” and “write on your skin with a red marker” There is nothing. Nothing. NOTHING. That feels better or more cathartic than slicing into my wrist with a fresh razor. Nothing. Nothing feels better than cutting to release a flow of blood and the physical pain distracting me from the mental anguish. There is honestly no better catharsis.

I need to run. Very far. From everyone. From everyone. There’s a reason I came out to the middle of the desert. It was so I could suffer and die without anyone around to ruin it. Saturday I’m cutting contact with everyone, and the moment I have the house to myself, I’m gone.

[crumblingmetropolis]

New House, Same Story - 8.4.18

I moved. I live 150 or so miles away from my old home, and shit feels the same.

I say something, someone else says it louder and gets credit for it. I’m just. Tired. Of being left out. Of feeling left out. I start my new job in my new life in two days and I guess that’s just how my life will be. Living in a room in someone else’s house, tiptoeing around so I don’t have to interact with anyone, working 40 hours a week so I can buy art from people who don’t like me.

Maybe I should just leave. Get my art, and then vanish. It’s not like it matters. No one knows my name. One has, like, my address but even she doesn’t know my first name. And no one there cares about me.

I mean, as it should be. I’m such a worthless piece of shit no one should care about me.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Selfish - 7.31.18

I should be finishing up packing, but I know I’m going to have to stay up late packing anyways bc my new landlord bailed on my Sunday and now I have to drive fifty miles to pay him and get my key. Ugh. Whatever.

But all I can think about is how one thing I’ve always wanted, that I’ve always felt will fix my mental issues(regardless of whether it’s based in reality), that I know for a fact I will never get, is to be completely and totally cared for for a little while. I just want to curl up in a warm blanket and be held, and have food brought to me and maybe fed to me and be petted and cuddled and cared for completely, and be able to voice my opinions and emotions without judgement to an unfailingly attentive listening ear(or many ears) and be comforted. And like, that’s so fucking selfish of me but I still crave it?

God I’m such a terrible fucking person it’s no wonder no one ever even wants to talk to me.

[crumblingmetropolis]

I’ll Be Home Soon - 7.25.18

I’m exactly one week away from moving into my own place. I’ll have a roommate(for the the first two weeks, anyways, he’s some dude with a bike, IDK who will move in after that) and my bathroom isn’t private, but I will have my own place.

I’m going to put art on all the walls, my art and my friends’ art and the art of people I deeply admire. I’m going to sew and read and write and lift weights. I’m going to study for my EIT. I’m going to work hard during the day and finally just enjoy life at night.

I’m going to set aside the ten percent that the religious in my family say is to tithe, and give it to people I believe need it more than a fucking church that says I’m going to hell for existing. I’m going to pay off my student loans, and then maybe someone else’s.

I’m going to spend the next six months I’m in this particular room learning who I am, or maybe it’s remembering. I know I have a personality, someone kind and beautiful and vibrant underneath this grey I’ve been stuck in, and goddammit I’m going to get her out.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Attention - 7.23.18

The only time I can get any attention from my new friends is as night because no one can hear me I guess. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m trying so hard to knock this social anxiety out so I can just have fun and pal around for ONCE IN MY GODDAMN LIFE but I literally don’t feel like I’m part of this group but leaving would just remind me how much it sucks being alone but I mean isn’t that better? Than just being left out?

I’m just. This is how my life has always been and I’m just. Struggling. To see a point in continuing having to fight to even attempt to get a seat at any table. I already know I have to fight for a seat at the table because I’m a black girl in the white man’s science world, it’d just be nice if I didn’t have to fight to have a seat at a fucking table of friends.

Like, this has happened with every single friend group I’ve ever been in since fucking elementary school and the only constant in it is me so something must be fucking wrong with me. Like. Something must be seriously wrong with me. IDK. I mean. It’s further evidence that my life doesn’t fucking matter, my existence doesn’t matter, and every second I continue to waste space and air on this earth is another second the world is worse off with me in it.

[crumblingmetropolis]

Sink - 7.22.18

I just want to sink into the floor and become entombed in the foundation.

My entire purpose in life for the last seven years was to graduate college, and I did it. Whoop-de-fuckin’-do. And this summer should have been a reward, a full nine weeks of absolute freedom to enjoy life to the fullest for the last time in my life. Instead, now with a week and a half left, I’m inside, on my computer, unable to communicate to people I like that I want to participate because my brain has decided I don’t deserve to have friends and that they all hate me. I feel like my only function in interpersonal relationships is to provide a garbage can to vent into, but if I attempt to just have fun and be pals, I’ll get yelled at. I have a shit memory so I can’t figure out what the catalyst for this is.

I had a lot of fun last night and the night before. Small group, just a few people bein’ pals, a few more would have been fine. But it’s day time now and I feel like all the daytime people hate me. I mean, it’s okay, I hate me too. I should never have joined. I don’t deserve to have friends or be happy.

[crumblingmetropolis]

I’m Just Tired - 7.21.18

I’m just tired of attempting to join communities and not being/feeling welcome anywhere. I just need to accept that nowhere and no one wants me and if I live or not it doesn’t fucking matter.