Being someone who finds it quite difficult for the most part
to vocally express their thoughts, it becomes very frustrating when your
written medium isn’t supporting your brain either. It causes large gaps between
the times you actually do print out all those thoughts and ideas and feelings,
and sometimes becomes a bad habit, which is funny because you have experienced
the opposite, too, when too much of the verbal/written junk is clogging the
pores of the atmosphere and is therefore unwanted.
If that makes sense.
I was looking back through older entries and realized that
the blank scary place I talked about in one of them as coming up in two months?
Well, yeah, I’m right there now two months later, existing in this big, scary,
blank place. There are many, many things that I can use to fill up my days, for
myself and for others, and yet, there are those nagging thoughts that will just
not go away. I don’t need lectures on kindness and consideration; I know how
the tiniest things can have all sorts of big and small impacts, sometimes short-lived
and sometimes far reaching. I know I have screwed up multiple times and I know
exactly what mistakes I made. Sometimes
I set about to justify my actions and words, sometimes I knew better and just
kept quiet, because that was how I felt I needed to deal with the situation on
my own part.
It has just come to this point where there are certain long
moments, many of them, where I go into a state of anxiety and sometimes full
blown panic, because I just can’t deal
with all of it. I feel stuck between the past and the future and am unable
to decide what exactly I need to do to get out of it. How to fix things, if
things can be fixed, and how to proceed if there is nothing that can be done
about what has happened and is now just done. I will begin to despise my own
self, because I can almost see the trails leading out from me to far away
consequences, and I feel powerless now to do anything about it, to prevent the
inevitable impact of my actions and of my very existence. It’s like a timer
constantly ticking in my head, constantly going off and then being reset. I do
not know how to explain that I cannot do this, I cannot sit and watch
everything crumble like I made it all crumble before. I hurt enough last time
when I screwed up, and I don’t want to dive into a new place of pain and guilt
and misery. I don’t know how to explain this.
I am usually good at coating myself in impermeable material
that prevents shocks and most other things to just roll off of me mostly, and
can buffer my brain into layers to trick it into missing thoughts that I don’t want
to be thought about. Lately, this tactic has become a survival technique,
because two months of constantly coating and then breaking down the impermeable
layers that I painted on myself caused a lot of wear and tear. It is hard now
to feel myself for most of the time. I no longer exist in the safe haven of
trust and faith and security. I have lost faith in immeasurable quantities.
Attempts to try to cement it all together again have resulted in disastrous
miscommunication and the situation being worse off than it all was to begin
with. Indifference will not help. It uses so much energy to do that that I can’t
tire myself out like that anymore. Don’t want more wear and tear.
I am searching for a solution, and for the right words to
explain how I feel. It is highly disturbing how I fail to find those words, but
also quite clear why this is happening, because the lack of faith just makes
everything so much harder to handle. I can’t blame the poor environment that is
created for me that is also one of the reasons my thoughts aren’t getting
across, because that needs to be clarified by me too. I need to let that be
known.
Pardon me for this lengthy vomit; feel free to leave it as
it is on this blog because I always keep the good and the bad and this is one
of those things that shouldn’t be cleaned up. Is it pointless? I don’t know.
Vomit makes you feel better once it’s out.
Currently re-reading:
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Movie watched:
Fireflies in the Garden
