Ok so I got two ideas and they'll be both in the same post.

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Success Streak:

TW: Self-harm references/metaphorical imagery

 

(Go to the next page if comfortable with that.)

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Success Streak

Ado, sometimes I hate being intelligent, funny, skilled, whatever the heck labels people embed within my skin, my flesh, to be stuck lest I cut them out. When I do one thing right that others can't, they then expect me to do it again and again later. They see me as "the person good at ____".

There's lots of thoughts for me here, and I've wrote about it much before also... I guess I'll abandon that fickle, naive, inkling of desire for an organised "masterpiece."

Anyway, it gets irritating. I once took a class that had to do with photography, then people gave me the phone when they wanted a good picture taken of them. They said - without much evidence, I'd opinionate (wait is that the right word ...) - that I'm "the best" at photography or taking pictures or whatever. Really, I felt average, I felt like I had no extra skill, I felt pressure to take a good photo and to confirm their... accusations, as then they'd be disappointed. And, they were, but I think I intentionally caused it.

I was tired of it, and at the time I was thinking a lot about not wanting these labels stuck within me, and they did feel like accusations. I didn't want that burden, didn't want them to see me that way. Perhaps I didn't want them to think highly of me...

Either way, there was an event they were going to, and wanted me to take a picture of them. I was tired of this and perhaps overreacted, but I made little-to-no attempt at actually taking good pictures. And, when I handed back the phone, they said to me "you used to be good at this" or something similar. To me, it felt like that had been their self-constructed, self-reinforced image of me. Perhaps it had/has truth, as I have a current interest in photography (not really of people, though), yet I still did not feel good under that burden, that pressure, expectation, label, so I shucked myself of it, I cut it out. Perhaps I simply don't want anything that allows for failure, as I cannot fail when I do not succeed. That, to me, is peace.

 

This goes with other things, unfortunately. When I make jokes, say something "insightful, wise, helpful", in essence "good, successful," I feel pressured to continue that with everything; when I mess up, when my ungraceful stumbling - my flukes, or perhaps imposter syndrome - land wrong, when I get unlucky, or when they (it's bad to say "my audience," for what it could imply...) begin to realise the faults in my words or logic or humour, they will be disappointed in me for something I did not claim. A label they embedded within me, I feel. They will see me a failure.

And, when I truly (or, as truly as I can) believe in their praise, I fear overconfidence, cockiness, false sense of self (overinflated), when in fact I am ordinary. I oft fear being deemed/realizing I am ordinary after foolishly thinking otherwise. The solution, in my mind, is to never outwardly claim extraordinariness or skill or whathaveyou, or to never believe it (though that is less an issue.)

So, when others oversaturate me with seeming-empty platitudes or whathaveyou, I grow uncomfortable- sometimes extremely so. Luckily, this isn't too much an issue, but does occur in events like coursework feedback, feedback, sometimes when I share something, and... in settings like therapy/group. And what is so conflicting about this is that I love/crave praise, validation, etc. This can be a point I use against myself, of course (in favor of me being a bad person), but it genuinely makes me feel both good and bad. Perhaps because then when the next feedback is less praising (for recurring feedbacks), I... idk, I'm losing my train of thought, or what I even believe (I have to analyse the generic statements to see if I actually believe it, or am just human-LLM'ng it- writing something that sounds reasonable, sounds good, sounds like something someone'd say, etc., but isn't actually me.)

The very-bitter truth is that not everything I do is perfect or good or even decent. Probably. Yes, no doubt shut it. Anyway, I struggle, I hesitate to acknowledge or to believe that something I create is "good," because... what if it isn't? I can say "I'm proud of this," which I've started saying once in a while, opposed to "I think this is really good" or some crap. Or maybe that's false idk I don't remember. But, basically.... Idk; why can't I think?

I'm essentially always waiting for someone to find a flaw, to criticize, to show how it's not good, etc.

To prevent further knife-twisting, I either do it myself or take painkillers. Or some metaphor. Basically, if I don't claim or think it's good, the criticism - failure - will hurt less? Nope. Maybe, but it still hurts something fierce (hehe). Idk at this point lol. I'm losing it, Ado.

I guess instead of that I'll say or talk about how storming much failure hurts for me? I don't know. I've sometimes realize or thought it could be the whole Generic of "fear of rejection." The thing is, I don't know if I fear being rejected by people I feel disconnected from. But I don't know. I then start to perhaps see the further meaning of "rejection." Ah, I might hafta make another post about "further meaning." I've started to understand more, I think...

Anyway, this other meaning - I think, perhaps - is that of failure. Of being vulnerable (though I'd deny it and not even realize it, as that is another thing with "Further Meaning." Ah, I even am understanding that more. This Further Meaning can come, too, from thinking about "Generics" and empty platitudes rather than my habit, I think, of skimming, ignoring, not analysing, not getting the meaning, etc. Ignoring because of overuse as well as misunderstanding, not full understanding, and perhaps resistance to anything that could mean I am "good." Though, perhaps others do not explain them well- or well enough for me? Ado, I think I need to start using footnotes...)

uhhh so I was saying that this other meaning of Rejection could be failure and being vulnerable abd sharing something and then not receiving what I expected, or wanted- acceptance. Perhaps that is where the "accustomed to rejection"-turned/ledto-"expecting rejection" (sorry for the AI-speakkkk, that wasn't AI but Ado it sounds cringe and AI. Oh yeah, I had a thought yesterday or maybe today idk that AI is kinda... trying to be relatable, but is instead an outcast, pariah, misfit, etc. Not saying AI deserves better or anything, it's not even sentient or whatever, just an observation that may be true... I might either expand on this in another post or if anyone cares/is-interested, they can inquire-further...) So, yeah. Uhmm....

Pain, I was talking about pain from failure and stuff. I tense my body and breath in or hold my breath sometimes when someone speaks and experience or anxiety or something, whatever it is, has told me/tells me that they are going to stab me with the blade of Rejection. I prepare myself. I think now I Understand what is meant by stress responses... yes. Hmm. Anyway, I expect criticism, sometimes I don't get it and it feels weird. Especially in therapy. I felt so attacked by their word choice, I kept either expecting criticism/Rejection or "reading/seeing" some undertone (I never/rarely have used that word, interesting. Was it right?) of it. At least/especially early on, when it was newer, less familiar. Ado, it didn't ever go away I don't think, but idk.

I understand, but this still happens, appears, or... is chosen? Though I can say without fear of being "bad," or much fear, that it is likely not chosen. Perhaps chosen to not "fix," but not chosen to occure? (Accidental 'e' at the end, removed it, then added back cuz I thought it looked çool. Oh wait is that lampshading? [Perhaps not what you think I am referring to... I don't make sense to myself anymore sorry if I don't to you, I'd be maybe-surprised if I did. I think. That's why I said maybe. Anyway shut upppp.])

Ado have I exhausted my material or am I just getting sidetracked? Can't tell. I feel there's more but I recognize the former's patterns/signs...

 

Hadda remind myself what the title was. Perhaps an alternate coulda/shoulda been "Rejection", but who caressssss lol.......

storms what is this

Success Streak... Success Streak... sometimes I think I'd rather fail than succeed, but too tired to think of why. What was I oh yes like with the crappy pictures I took with that photography example.

Oh sigh ado... I fear being, like, a published artist cuz if something good at first, then deterioration....

 

ill write rest later...

 

ok... back after a short... respite? Reprieve... what's the difference... hmm. Anyway, had a thought while gone, that... I momentarily forgot. It was.... ah yes that ... wait... ah, that when people give feedback, if they either don't say what I did well or I don't grasp that, then perhaps that can leave me not know how to replicate success...

 

anyway... I think that's enough for this one.

 

(next page)

 

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Disconnectedness, but is there Connection?

TW: Suicidality/Suicidal Ideation, Self-Harm

 

(Proceed if comfortable)

 

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Disconnectedness, but is there Connection?

Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare

— Three Days Grace, Time of Dying

 

So...

This one is inspired by Tessa's "Stars Asunder," though I'm not sure if correlations will be visible or obvious, as I am unsure of them fully myself. It was both a prompt and an inspiration. Yeah..

 

I used to crave connection, yearn for social interaction, for "friends," or a "best friend" to confide in, to experience life with. Now - and perhaps then, as well - this seems impossible, unachievable. And, I think lately this feeling of unachievability has grown. After experiencing the psych ward (or inpatient care), I had some great interactions... they were pretty good yeah, but it doesn't feel achievable again. One thing that made it easier was us all being set up together, it made it easier. Yeah...

Now, idk. I just view myself as... irreparably malfunctioned, broken, nonfunctioning, incapable, something. The brainfog or exhaustion or whatever the Ado I'm gonna blame it on is making it harder to think. Perhaps after writing that first one...

I feel disconnected. Disconnected from everyone, from people. I don't even... think I want social connection anymore, because it seems incompatible with me, my very "self" (unknown though it may be). Perhaps my current environment is not conducive to social growth, but idk. I don't feel able to both interact with "normal" people (i.e., everyone else), and have it be meaningful. That seems like a lot of work, and unenjoyable, painstaking, perhaps doomed to fail.

I don't think they'd even enjoy me, anyway. I feel I'd be a... not their main friend, just some... just an awkward friend/acquaintance. Left out.

Left out. Left out... Am I left out? Do I want to be?

Winter. Snow, trash bags and can lids.

..

..do i?

am i?

 

anyway ...... even on the shard, i feel apart.

i feel apart from life, reality. maybe it's these noise-cancelling headphones and music.. idk.

"Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare" — Three Days Grace, "Time of Dying" (song)

oh damn that would've been a nice epigraph..

lemme go edit that in hehe

 

Btw dissociation is another Generic I hate cuz I can never claim it or know if I can or not. Depression is, too, but is an older one...

 

Anyway... sigh do i have anything to write?

I am doing nothing, perhaps that's why I feel this way. But also I don't always want to. I usually have no motivation to write, lately. Not to read, either. Not to do something productive, nor to create. Not even to force myself to stay up all night- I grow tired at the thought, each night, and go to bed on-time or only a few hours late. It brings a great sense of boredom. And thought of the next day.

But anyway... yeah. I hate this..

I feel so cold and probably empty. Unfeeling, perhaps finally the headful-of-cotton, actually. I worry it's... the HRT- that it's not working for me, not right. Idk.

I feel unthinking. Can't think. And, though I keep hazarding to say it (that's a weird one), I think I want to die, maybe. There doesn't seem to be anything left here, and though I don't believe in anything post-death save nonexistence, I.. do not want to live with pain - however numb, this moment - nor hate, nor this sense of nothingness, nor guilt. I do not want to worry any longer, don't want to make decisions or avoid them, don't want to keep *thinking.*

I want to die, if I am a bad person. I want to die if I have truly caused irreparable harm to others, if I cannot make up my mind, if everyone including me is awful. I hesitate to claim the "this world/everyone would be better off without me" Generic, but it may be true...

Honestly, I don't know that I do any good, and I likely do bad. Perhaps.

Am I trying to convince myself to die? Or to live, or simply going through it to make some sense of it?

I look in the mirror and don't know who I am, don't know who I want to be. I get this odd, uncomfortable sense that I am a tangled mess, of contradictions and doubts and spirals and... thoughts and idk.

Maybe I don't want to die, if I can barely say much about it...

Sigh.

Never mind that I've had a fear for many years of being suicidal. A fear that it is "wrong," or something, and I cannot be it, it cannot be me. I've said this before, but whatever.

Too-small paragraphs.

I think I'm sick of trying to figure everything out. Sick of thinking, sick of myself. Sick of trying to puzzle or think or analyse or spiral through things. I don't understand. I don't understand myself. I don't understand the world. It's too much, and... honestly what does it matter.. i dont even know what to say. Ado, I hope I'm not just parroting Tess.

I think I've lost motivation. To pursue any "passions," socialization, and by extension life. Maybe I never had it, but at least I was doing it. I don't think I am living, right now. This can't be living, isn't living, life... this is nothing, misery, confusion.

I never have a reason for anything. Someone once asked me what moment I realized I was trans, or how I knew, etc. Actually, multiple people. My only answer is seeing someone discuss their realization, which I think essentially was me seeing someone be trans and then... think I'm trans. Someone asked me what I liked about the Backrooms movie, I didn't know or couldn't answer. Did I even like it? What do I like so much about Shallan, or about Brandon Sanderson's books, or about anything? Maybe I don't like any of it. Maybe I'm just doing it hoping to fit in, to be someone, doing it because others do, hoping to find something meaningful because others find it so. Hoping to discuss it.

Discussion. Storms I hate it, hate everything. I have FOMO about stuff and I hate it. Storms. Someone mentioned that The Amazing Digital Circus (TADC) would have the finale released in theatres. I had heard of TADC, it seemed like another popular phenomenon, akin perhaps to K-Pop Demon Hunters or Gravity Falls (naturally). I had seen brief discussion of it here on the Shard, in the psych ward. To me, "everyone" had watched it or knew about it, and it was great. It sounded interesting, too. So, I binged it in a night/day or two, went to the theatres and saw it, had a brief conversation with someone or a few people whatever, and that was it pretty much.

I didn't watch it with someone, hear about it from a friend halfway through its several-year gradual release/production/creation/run, stumble upon it and allow myself to watch it then realize a friend liked it too and talk about it with them... Ado. Sigh. I need more exposure to life.

I need life, a life. I need... I don't know. But will it even do? Will it just be a let-down? Will I not be able to make it work? Will it be stupid...

Ado.

Ado I don't know.

Maybe I don't want to die, but I don't want to live this life of this human of myself.

And storms, when I had or thought I had a close friend, it was not. It was not what I thought, or it ended, and storms I end up feeling guilty, ashamed,... sad, sick, questioning future interactions/people...

sigh

and storms I was supposed to talk about self harm but honestly I'd rather pretend it doesn't exist. i try, sort of..

i was so damn ecstatic to cut myself, then saw someone's scars and heard people say things about living and idk, I grew sick, of the thoughts I had had, of what I craved, or convinced myself I did.

And storms I did it anyway, and am just waiting for it to fade away, no trace. I want to forget, I want to at least have *wanted* it, gotten *some* good feeling? Nope.

I messed up, I regressed you could say.

I didn't even admit it to my own damn diary/journal.

I.. do not want help, not from who would provide it currently. The thought feels awful, sickening, horrible. I can't, cannot.

I don't need help, anyway.

Unless it makes me enjoy life, perhaps..

sighhhhhh

what is the point to any of this?

Maybe.. if I hadn't been born. That would be nice, I think. With suicide, there are too many complications. At least with people who care about you or say they do.

sigh.

I won't be too descriptive of suicide I guess.

But I'd never really thought of never being born. But an image of the Earth came to my mind and I thought of that. Doesn't matter my thought train...

Anyway.

I'd never have had to experience this hell.

This hell that can be cool and chill at times, other times... well, you typical image of hell, I guess. Fire and all that. Brutal.

Perhaps both are brutal, just in different manners.

Ado, everything is hell. Even this thinking, not knowing. Questioning long-held truths, beliefs. Questioning. Perhaps they were weak.

I look at my bookshelf and don't want to read, see my notebooks and don't want to write or do any art, I sometimes start trying to make a song and get sick after a bit and I don't know why. I wrote the lyrics to one, maybe will be edited if I go back to that, but I wrote lyrics. I persisted through the sickness and brain fog and exhaustion and numbness or unthinkingness.

I can't live when I question myself and the everyone- the people who could give me life.

I can't live when I don't know how, and can't. Or don't want to.

I can't just continue to persist and exist through nothingness.

This is not a suicide note- at least not as I write it, not the Intent. Sorry to be gruesome, dark, or triggering. I hope the TW/CW was sufficient...

 

And I keep getting called fake, faking it, attention-seeking, edgelord, keep getting this struggle called a façade, keep getting called abusive and manipulative- the very things I fear and already believe about myself, keep... keep getting told to stop lying around, stop not wanting to do anything, told to just do something good for myself, told to not be unhealthy, reminded unintentionally of things I cannot say or struggle or think about it don't know what to think and can't say and can't figure out and ... idk.

I'm not sure if it hurts, doesn't hurt, or if I try not to feel or act hurt. It hurts sometimes, at least. When I am told to just get out of this phase, stop acting like this, essentially drop this edgy façade. I hate it, and it makes me feel awful. And I believe it, at least to an extent. I believe what they say, it makes sense. I've been called edgy before that, I see how I am. When I am not, I see how it is perhaps not me.

I think on how "if they only knew this..." but even I don't know, aren't certain, can't tell who's right. Maybe we both are.

And it's not like I act any way to not deserve/bring it. Perhaps it lessens when I am "better." Yes, I think. I see.

I hate. I hate. I can't say I hate myself, can't say I hate them. So, once again: I hate.

I want to be someone else, struggles and all. Perhaps because I wouldn't have this past; it would be new. And I can't remember the new person's past, as then it would be no different in the way that matters.

I think I just want to escape.

Though that is impossible.