Journal 0045

Yeah- aniblog is not going to happen.

Don’t got the time and what I chose to blog about turned out to be well less than five minutes, something I should have known but whatever.

Haha, anywho-

Yeah- that’s it for now.

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Journal 0044

Hey, so quick update on things.

Dah dah dah dah- insert some depressing things here about my life and lack of things that are important to me but whatever.

Anywho future plans, DnD is taking a backseat in general as I don’t have that easy access to photoshop or the time to do it anymore- so instead I’m going to start back at aniblogging.

I’m blogging Osake wa Fuufu ni Natte Kara (Alcohol is for Married Couples) which appeals to both my alcoholism as well as my love of super cute couples. First episode is going to air tomorrow so I’ll see if I can’t get the post out right away.

Going to be lower on the number of screenshots but I’ll probably try and post photos of drinks that I’ll make while I watch! (I’ll research those before hand so I have some parity with the actual show).

But yeah- to tomorrow!

Journal 0043

So- the Con wasn’t a massive disaster! In fact one could say that it went rather well!

Everyone was super supportive and understanding (something that I don’t deserve at all, but am more then happy to receive) and I had a really good time!

The department I ended up working in, was one that I hadn’t had any exposure to before (I’ve like two departments left to work for before I pretty much have been in every department ever at a convention), and the people were super awesome!

I knew that I was overreacting, but well- that’s kind of hard to judge and rationalize in the moment.

But yeah! Super basic post here just saying that things haven’t completed melted and that I really need to chill out.

Journal 0042

Been having trouble breathing for the past couple of days. Stress is starting to get to me.

Ugh- I hate everything.

My heart feels like it’s been running on overdrive since Monday and I haven’t been this nervous for something since I what feels like ages. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to explode.

Ah well-

If the stress does kill me, which it probably  will-

I’ll just- I’ll just be dead.

Hey that doesn’t sound too bad now does it!

Journal 0041

Well- the other shoe has finally dropped. Sponsors won’t be coming this year and has therefore left me without a job.

Had a minor anxiety attack while attempting to make dinner. Nothing too major, just grabbed a knife to open a package and felt a giant urge to cut. the sponsors pulling out have not been good for me. I didn’t. I didn’t cut I mean. With the knife.

I’m back to scratching myself with my fingernails, but in the long run that’s not terrible right? Right? Haha-

Sorta started to hyperventilate when I felt the urge to cut. It was so strong. It was like- it was like I was in high school again, in my room at four in the morning. I could hear my dad snoring in the room next to me. The entire world was just staring at me and I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t do anything. I dropped the knife on the table and laid down on on my stomach in the living room until I could breath again.

I think I did an okay job of smothering everything. My roommate didn’t say anything after he came down the stairs.

I bought ice cream before I heard the news, green tea, and it tasted good. So I guess they’re that.

Everyone from the event was super supportive. They said that I did my best, and that’s all they can ask for. But was it my best? Could they not have asked for more if I wasn’t just fucking mess of a human being? If I wasn’t just a waste of fucking space.

I feel terrible. I haven’t felt this lost and alone- since November, and even then this is too much like high school. This is too much like disappointing my parents. I can hear them, they’re not angry just sad. They don’t understand where they went wrong, neither do I. They’re blaming themselves, it’s not their fault. It’s mine. Everything bad that’s ever happened to me is because of me. Everything.

I’m nothing more than a fucking failure and I’m sick of everything. I’m so tired. I haven’t been not tired in so long. I just want to stop being tired. I just want everything to stop. I wish I hadn’t chickened out all those years ago.

I’m being ridiculous.

It’s fine.

Everyone understands. No one cares. They never do. You’re a fuckup, and I’m sure they already knew that. You’re not surprising anyone. Everyone who stays without you, knows that you’re a piece of garbage. Everyone else leaves. I deserve this.

Calm. I’m calm.

I’m not stupid. That I’m not. I know I’m smart. That’s the one thing I can hold onto really- that I have even a tiny bit of intelligence.

Let’s be honest. Just I haven’t been honest in a while.

The suicidal thoughts are back. They’ve always been there, just quieter. Now they’re loud again. The urge to cut is back. That’s been back since November. I’ve been smoking instead, that and drinking. It makes the want stop, until it comes back. I’m probably autistic,- I know, left field- but we’re being honest. It explains a lot of things. It explains my school life as well in elementary and middle school. It explains- a lot. So much. The only reason I’m where I am now- is because I’ve been carried here. I don’t have the strength to carry myself anywhere.

I don’t. I’m only here because of other people wanting me to.

I would have just given up long ago was it not for other people. Not that, it really matters. The people who want me to succeed- want me to exist just keep changing. They all give up on me eventually. Wow- I have abandonment issues.

I’ve had those since forever though- since I was a kid. I guess even since then I just expected that no one would want me.

Enough.

I’ve calmed down enough to finish this sad rambling. We’re fine. We’ve always been fine. I haven’t killed myself yet- so- as far as I’ve been alive I’ve been fine.

Journal 0040

So- my life is in fucking shambles. I say this- but well I guess relativity it’s not. It just really fucking feels like it.

Planning for the convention has been going soooooo great. I say this with most sarcasm and venom that one could have when speaking about anything. The world seems to be conspiring to ensure that I have the most stressful of times.

I can feel my hair turning white and I want to scream and rip out my own arm to beat myself to death with.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

For fuck’s sake.

But yeah-

Fucking peachy.

That’s my life.

Journal 0039

I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore, I just feel like I’ve already drowned.

I feel buried. I feel like I’ve been placed in a deep pit of cement and left to simply be numb for half the day and then vibrant and full of energy the other.

I pride myself in being able to understand why I feel things, at least that’s what I’ve told myself. I’ve tried to trick myself into being an introspective person when really the thing that terrifies me the most is my own thoughts. I don’t understand anything. I just think back to when I was younger- and I start to realize that I haven’t really grown at all. I’ve just- the exact same person deep down. I’ve not a bigger person, I haven’t grown.

I just hide behind the facade and patterns that I can copy from others. I realize now that- there’s something wrong with me socially. There is. The only reason I’m able to speak to other people in normal ways is that I’ve copied responses to common questions and actions from things I’ve seen. Anytime I actually react to something- anytime that my real feelings come to front and I’m left without a template to copy from I’m lost. No amount of self-discussion can give me the right words to say.

I have to fuck up. I have to fuck up over and over again before I’m able to learn. I’m a stupid person, I really am.

I’m so fucking stupid.