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cosmosogler · 7 years

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hi. today i got up on time, which is a surprise, considering how little i actually slept.

i had dumb dreams. i had more to say about them this morning, but before i could write anything down i had to leave for linda and david’s.

i was playing a very glitchy game. the level forgot to program in an ending, so it just kind of went on forever until you clipped through the floor. then it turned into like some film noir, i can only think “detective” story even though i am fairly certain there wasn’t really a mystery. it was... hard to see, because it was so dark. i remember there was something going on, but whenever i almost remember what the memory kind of slides around like a bar of soap. so whatever.

i showered and drove over to my relatives’ house. they made waffles and taught me how to make berry sauce. we talked about a ton of stuff. more than i can recall and list here. i ended up staying for four hours, which was just a little too long for me. when i got home i realized i was exhausted. i rambled at oz about jim cummings for a little bit and then i had to turn around and go over to gramma’s with my family for dinner.

dad said something very interesting while we were on the road. mom asked if i had heard back from taylor about comicon. i said no, she hadn’t texted me back. dad strongly recommended i call. i said i would send her a facebook message about it. that prompted dad to start ranting about talking to someone with your voice and how i never know anything and this is why my generation never knows anything.

not only was it nonsense, it was also blatantly untrue and also annoying? he was sure angry about this imaginary phenomenon though!

while at gramma’s my family sat in the living room around the tv and discussed yet again how our glorious leader is “not a politician” and “not a bad guy” and then they started making, like, weird non-jokes about illegal immigrants and their children and laughing. i sat at the kitchen table staring at my brother while he chewed on the fat end of a water bottle.

it’s weird how gramma and grampa work... gramma basically hates foreign people except when she personally knows them. then she’s kind and even sort of motherly. i guess she operates under the “you’re not like the others” policy.

we had pizza. i also had a klondike bar because it sounded interesting more than because i was still hungry. actually there was so much cheese on the pizza that i started feeling kind of ill just feeling it in my mouth haha.

then we drove home and i diddled around for a while. i didn’t want to do anything and nothing updates on sundays. i played fetch with wiley and my brother in the back yard since the sidewalk was too hot to take the dog for a walk. it was over 100 today.

i saw that my art trade partner had finally posted a reference of her character so i found some nice pokemon mystery dungeon remixes and got to work. she’s probably too young to recognize the jojo pose i used. it was fun looking up images of cosplayers (and araki himself) doing the poses. i had to use people models since jojo isn’t exactly known for its exceptional anatomical accuracy. especially for the stylish poses.

the character has just a few too many accessories that have to all be different colors for me to adjust the color palette well... and she stressed that the bracelets absolutely had to be “hot pink.” three times.

i noticed that these young artists spend a lot of time making sure their characters look like adult women even though they are basically just fursonas. all three of them were pretty... busty in the references i used. i don’t think i’ve ever drawn any of my non human characters like that...

while i was drawing i was thinking a little bit about why i was doing this. like... i know it’s mostly just to make other people happy and not for any personal gain. even though it puts a lot of stress on my wrist and fingers, especially when i use the tablet. like... i enjoy drawing. i guess that’s the reward here. why did i do the coloring page? because i enjoy coloring.

but that’s not really what i want to be doing in therapy either, you know? my goal can’t be “help me learn to manage my energy so i can give and give and give.” that’s not gonna fly.

i was so busy all day that i didn’t really have time to sit and do nothing but think about that goal. i guess that’s why i started writing the journal so early. to give myself time to complain my way through my thought process and hopefully arrive at a useful conclusion this time.

and immediately upon saying that i have no thoughts, of course.

i wish... i could get people to see me as a person and not a potential sex conquest or whatever. basically all of my relationships pick one or the other. but my goal can’t be to change how other people think. i can’t force anyone to think anything. all i can do is change how i present myself.

do i need to stop being afraid of judgment? i don’t know how i feel about being judged... i mean, it’s been a part of my life for basically the whole time. it’s gonna happen. it comes with being uncontrollably weird.

do i need to learn to loosen up and commit? that would really be only for singing and dancing. people wise i run into the same problem as last night. just going to get steamrolled.

i guess being more confident would help. especially academic confidence. impostor syndrome is deadly for careers. but i don’t think academic confidence is going to help with the underlying “cannot make connections” problem.

haha. i guess i’m depressed. my brain just said “i could always kill myself. then there wouldn’t be a problem.” i wonder why the “start over” instinct is so strong in suicidal feelings. even if reincarnation was real, losing all your memories and experience could easily lead to you just making the same mistakes over again, even with different life circumstances. that’s not helpful. but then again, carrying your “beyond repair” feelings over isn’t helpful either. i guess that sucks.

should i ask for help from the therapist? as far as “setting a reasonable goal” goes. like, i’m already asking for help in general of course. that’s what therapy is. but again i’m worried about the difference between getting assistance and having my hand held. if i can’t be independent and self-sustaining here, where will that happen? “later”? how far is later? best to work on that now too.

what’s the difference between reasons and excuses? personal opinion, i guess.

is this a problem i can look up on google? how would i even word that request? “fix my life pls.” “how to make connections.” “suggestions for handling a deep fear of other humans.” should i... be doing some personal research like a google search before asking the therapist for ideas? i don’t really have any other resources. can’t ask my parents. the rest of my family basically says “you have to get over it, you’re smart” when i bring up confidence issues. should i go to the library or something? surely out of the billions of people who have lived someone has had this problem before.

google says to get people to take you more seriously you have to encourage others to talk about themselves. COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

linda’s advice for academic success was to work harder. as long as you work as hard as you can, things will work out.

i just... i don’t know where the limit is. i seem to have an endless amount of effort i can give and then suddenly i break. but i could just try a little harder if i kept going... i still have energy reserves in there somewhere. i feel like every time i break it’s because i am holding back and not because i am actually sick. like when i try to run. just because i’m tired doesn’t mean it is physically impossible to keep running. i could always just keep going, if i had the mental strength. but i am weak, so i stop running and walk instead. and then i can’t breathe or stand at the end of it because i ran too far i guess.

it’s hard to balance out the knowledge that i am mortal and able to be killed by a mistake with the fact that i have survived everything so far in my life (obviously). it’s not unheard of for people to die after pushing themselves too hard. but i look at that and some insane part of me says “but they were able to push themselves that hard in the first place, and you can’t. because you’re a wuss.”

should my therapy goal be to make better jokes?

but really, all that happens is that i feel like i didn’t REALLY try my hardest, because i have not literally died yet.

maybe i am splitting hairs and not focusing on the real problem when i think about the differences between words, between good connotations and bad connotations. i can’t tell. there’s a lot i don’t know, and even more i don’t understand. there are a lot of questions about myself i need to answer, but i can’t figure out how to think about them in a way that will allow me to give a definite answer. all my answers to hard questions are soft, laced with exceptions and the knowledge that there is more nuance to the situation than i am able to articulate. and then, i guess i get lost trying to navigate that.

is that what it’s like to be unable to see the big picture? i always thought i was good at that. maybe i am not good at that either.

maybe i am retarded after all. there are a lot of questions i have about myself and i don’t know how to answer them. but i feel like an adult my age should have at least SOME of them answered, and i feel like many of my peers have come to decisions. i’m still trying to figure out what the questions even are.

or maybe i’m hiding the questions i’ve already answered from myself so i feel less successful. who knows!!!!!

i just want to be safe more than i want to love other people. is changing what i want a good idea? and, if it is, what should i want instead? is throwing safety out the window a form of self harm? smells suspiciously like self harm to me.

if i get hurt again, i guess i could always pretend it isn’t real. or forget about it. but that doesn’t really make me happy either.

i don’t have the strength to back up my requests. evan at villanova made a big show of pinning me against the wall and there was nothing i could do about it because he was bigger than me. craig did his thing and i feel like i could have done something, but chose not to, and therefore what happened is my fault. i don’t remember being able to make a decision because i was so shocked by what was happening. but i should have made one anyway. i didn’t know if screaming would be an appropriate reaction considering there were other people in the room and none of them said or did anything. and when i broke up with craig they tried to get us to “talk it out” so we could potentially “get back together” or at least “be friends.”

what is even the point of having friends if they’re gonna be like that.

i have so many things to say in therapy and NO TIME to say all of them. how do i pick the “most important” things? how do i only pick a few things to talk about and still get across that this has happened for 24 years straight? how do i talk about this stuff when i don’t even WANT to remember it, let alone the fact that i barely remember it anyway?

except, you know, i do remember it very vividly. i just can’t be sure that it’s vivid and also accurate. because memories are persnickety like that. and it’s not like i can just go ask the people who were there what happened. they won’t remember it or they will just straight up deny it happened. like when i told dad that mom used to beat me.

wow it looks like i’m a wreck! how am i supposed to pick one thing to fix when EVERYTHING IS BROKEN?

maybe that’s what the problem is. like trying to fix the plumbing in a house that is on fire.

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