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CPTSD. Alexithymia? Blunted Affect?

I am in a weird place. I can grind at something hard. I doubt you, the reader, will ever find someone better at this. The kicker is that it has pervaded a good chunk of my psyche. I am either 100% or my version of 0%.

I believe it has ruined long term relationships of all kind and I am not sure how to fix it. Due to having a near perfect memory, I don't experience time the same as others. 6 months feels like a month. And not on some bullshit of forgetting stuff. Friends have confirmed it is like I talked to them a month ago. But THEY feel that I have drifted from them since it still has been 6 WHOLE MONTHS. Am I so transient in other's lives that I don't matter? Probably. Every friendship I feel erodes at my emotional core to be someone who can effectively understand and express emotions.

This time phenomenon does not just happen with friends, it happens with everyone I talk with for more than ~5 minutes. The lady at trader joe's? yep. The starbucks barista I met a few weeks ago? yep. And it deeply hurts me. These people don't remember me. It is not like I carry a fucking torch for any of these people either. I just wish the deep humanness of speaking that I feel could be experienced by another stranger together with me. Similar to the premise of the movie Serendipity.

This as a whole makes me feel so ill-suited to companionship. Forget love, but am I some rabbit that needs a carrot of person dangled in front of me my whole life? Poor bastards who I call my friends. Looking to romance, I don't feel unlovable, I have many great qualities and would make a great partner, assuming someone keeps me at 100%. The onus of keeping me from being emotionally invested should be on me. No one else.

I need to work on myself so I can get back to feeling like I have emotional nerves that have not gone through absorption.

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Money. Agency.

I now have a high paying job, I know what the HENRY acronym stands for, and I don't pay too much attention to the dinner bill anymore. And I am here, living.

All of that sounds ludicrous to the me of a few years ago. I entered a space where I felt poor and I felt bare. I did not have SAT Tutoring, I was on scholarship, my mom does not have her house paid off. I had, and in some places still have, nothing in common with these people. Am I experiencing social mobility? Who the fuck knows.

I left educated and I would like to think, a smidge ahead of my peers.

Since I have started working, even with some cost of living in the way, I have felt like life was opulent. I feel so disconnected with my younger self who struggled to stay on scholarship and cared about perception of peers. But I know I want more. I know I can make more.

Why? Because I can get shit done and I know how to speak to people.

As someone who has hated the idea of chores, it is ironic that every small task I want to execute at work ASAP. The same 5 minutes I would begrudgingly do the dishwasher is the same 5 minutes I happily update the status of an issue or taking the extra step. And most people don't do that. The rat race is never an issue of comparing low level output, it is an issue of comparing how your words are interpreted.

Agency solves this. Being quick about something implicitly leads to the assumption of "they are getting this done so fast to get back to the other work they have." It has done wonders for me and work life balance. By also being able to get your work done timely since you can focus and did not offset it with chore time, you are golden.

Anyway, money buys some happiness and agency is just knowing when to be tenacious

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Rectifying Love as Adults

When I was young, I had five serious crushes. I am not talking about temporary raised feelings or even girls I ended up dating, but instead those who were important to forming who I am. Like an album with a B side, I had two serious crushes for each level of schooling in the states, with the exception for elementary school. 

The first, in elementary school, is hilarious in retrospect. She is a direct reminder that your environment is in direct correlation to who you like. Out of the fewer girls I knew, she was that. That’s it. 

However, my middle school crushes, are much, much more complicated. The first in middle school and second overall, a girl at school. We had been friends for some time at this point and she was (and still is) a perfect example of the full package. I told my best friend at the time I wanted to ask her out and that she was my first sexual fantasy. The dude tattled to this girl within hours and what ensued was the angriest I think someone has ever been with me, as she felt violated. I felt very guilty when I was younger about this, but as I have gotten older (and regained a bit of memory haha) I realized it was not wrong for me to feel this way nor was it wrong for me to have told my friend as both are perfect examples of growing up and learning when to keep to yourself. What was wrong is that I poorly placed my trust in someone. 

My third crush overall was someone I used to know in such a deep sense. All we did since we were in 4th grade to the point of high school was talk to each other. You could ask either of us anything about each other and it was known. She radiated (and still radiates) warmth to those she cares about. She was my confidant, facetiming everyday as if I was part of her family. I did not come from a very directly loving background and to me, her presence in my life was nothing short of love. I was not aware of my feelings though until it was much too late (she was dating someone else and we were not as strong of friends). We had started high school and had vastly different friend groups. That was that. She taught me positive warmth and basic affection to others, something I ended up losing after bad injury, but I would like to believe I have gained back.

My fourth crush overall was someone I pity and who pities me. In the truest sense, we were there for each other in poor times. Her mom, my dad. Two people putting each other back together at the wrong times. Also someone who I betrayed the expectations of others for. At homecoming, when I first met her, I had gone with someone else. The person I had asked explicitly told me that we go as strictly friends and would never want to date me. I was fine with this, even though I had asked with romantic intentions, it was nothing serious. Once arrived, my said +1 had ditched me and I ended up meeting the girl this paragraph was about. For the last song, my +1 had wanted to dance with me apparently and I was nowhere to be found. I was with this new girl, dancing outside in the freezing cold laughing our asses off. We went to different schools and tried seeing each other when we could but, things fizzled. Saw her years later when my dad passed and she help lick my emotional wounds. She definitely was someone who taught me to value those you’ve toiled with.

My last crush before college and my first love, was also the hardest on me. I think I was also her first love and I was so crazy about her that if she had not broken up with me, I probably would have given up my ambitions. She was a reflection of the best version of me for someone. I told her that all I wanted was her and that instead of going to the college I attend currently, I would attend hers. I wanted a life with her. I don’t know whether she did not see a future between us, or she wanted better for me as a friend, but we broke up. And it was destructive for me. I was distraught over the loss of her in my life. Looking back, it still stings, but in relationships since, I look at this relationship as very flawed. I was childish and a bit too arrogant, but for what it’s worth, I think learning how to be passionately in love is something one should learn before it is too late.

I had wondered for a long time if these people view me in the same lens I view them, as empirical experience in friendship and love. Maybe for them there is no love lost between us. Who knows. 

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Articulation

I already do what I want and mostly live how I choose, but now I want to refine it. I am going to try to give my life meaning. First, make amends with myself. Second, find a way to be independent of others for emotion. Third, work on talking instead of thinking about how I feel. That’s all. I view myself as expendable and replaceable, something that is disgusting to those who give a shit about me. I want to matter and I will matter.

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College

I am a wandering soul among this endless desert. The only oasis I know of is my own shelter. Still at this oasis, dead infested crocodiles lie all around me and I bathe in the blood of those less fortunate, In fact, this oasis is more of a resting place of hate. Two sides constantly are at odds, increasing the nile river of blood flowing out of this place. There was a choice to control people with the mind or the sword and both embody a respective approach but reach the same conclusion: death. Bodies of both sides lay in arms as they are engulfed by the unrelenting sands. I sit on a sandstone column and recline as blood drips from what is left of my hands. They shake violently as I try balancing the scales of my inner thoughts, but to no avail, I fade into the fray around me and am engulfed.

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A literal death wish

For the last few months things have been of a varying magnitude of depression and unhappiness. Waves of euphoria and interest in my life come every so often but most of the time I feel dull and lifeless. The waves of euphoria are most likely due to a more obsessive side of my personality where I become more invested in the state of those I care about way more than my own wellbeing. But without fail every night, I ask god to kill me in my sleep. As if a prayer of my own, I wonder if each night will be the night, testing god’s reality. Each night I grow angrier in the concept of some higher power as there are 3 possibilities of why this is not happening. The first and most likely, god does not exist and religion is just a bandaid to help humans face their mortality. The next options are more so part a and b with the underlying assumption in both that god does exists. Part a being god wont kill me as they are supposed to be omnibenevolent and killing your own creation is clearly not omnibenevolent. But the problem of theodicy lives strongly within each of our lives, no matter how faithful or unfaithful someone is. As to this, I have the least confidence in this reasoning. Part b is that god is not killing me to spite me as since he is omniscient and I am faithful, god should respect the wishes of the faithful. But to that end, god is spiting me because I am rejecting the life they have provided for me and it frankly pisses god off. I dont believe any higher power is absent of emotions and although judgement is absolute, it is relatively absolute to the universe. Overall, it has been an interesting experience as I am not dead yet and I keep on adding questions about my faith and belief in god

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A long thought

This year has come and gone. I feel enlightened and daunted quite honestly. Have I matured? not really. Have I expanded my knowledge and opinions? for sure. Have I dealt with anything but school for the past year? nope. I use the adjectives of enlightened and daunted because I am constantly focused in the future, and there is nothing that the future brings more than enlightenment and fear. To this extent, I feel like I have skipped part of my childhood. Not in the sense of FOMO, but more as I am almost 18 where my interests are aligned within people in their 20s given my expedited education and long term goals. At the same time, some of my interests are also aligned with persons in their early teens, as I have been craving the nostalgia of no responsibility and happier times, the hallmark indicators of a suburban child in a middle class family like myself. Currently, going past these surface level desires, I am full of felicity. It is like my mind is a reservoir that can keep filling up quite easily with water from the fountain of knowledge, but I feel like a river with life and information passing me by. In short, I am struggling with not my existence, nor my purpose, but with the ability to define usefulness in terms of my life. From this, I do not feel depressed or even sad, just apathetic of my living and inarticulate in a subject many struggle to define for large parts of their life. 

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update on that girl

we did not last long, surprise... lol she has a new mans now and I have just been too lazy to express my feelings on much for a minute now. I’ve been so busy these past few months and what I actually want to write about is that. 

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some recent thoughts

I only post on here when I really have no other output, maybe someone will find it some day...enjoy for the future

anyway, I met this girl. She makes me feel like nothing else, I look at her and see me married and dying with her at an old age. I’ve not even known her for a month yet but I know I would die for her and I told her that I like her, and she likes me too! This was insane to me, she’s freaked out by how much she likes me too. She’s emotionally scared and anxious, but I am here to support her. Instead of this whole thing making me want to live, It has made my lust to die even greater. I can’t bear anything else, I have nothing left to give. No emotion, no money, no ability. My insomnia only makes this worse...

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Mi Familia

This movie explains me better than me; I cry every time I watch it. When I was younger, my dad had a heart attack after a day at the state fair. He woke me up, yelling my name and screaming in pain. My parents were divorced and in separate houses so it was up to me to call 911. I had never been so scared. Then as they were coming I had to find my dad’s key ring to unlock the front door. Our front door had a key mechanism on this inside and his keyring had 30 keys from work, the bank, drawers, cabinets, mail, etc,... I remember me trying each key until I found the key that worked. I soon watched the paramedics come in and my dad’s now semi-lifeless body went out on a transport unit and rushed to a hospital in an ambulance. I never have felt the same since then. 10 minutes later, my mom shows up saying the paramedics alerted her. I hug her, crying and my heart in my throat. My dad spends months in the hospital; I was always way too afraid to visit him, this all happened when I was 7 or 8. My mom had already been through major bariatric surgery when I was a year or two younger, hospitals freaked me out. He died this last year and Mi Familia was that movie that I connected with. After seeing his brother killed, Jimmy holds a deep seeded anger throughout his life which takes year of healing, and even at the end of the movie, he still struggles to figure himself out and how to be the best he can be for his son, Carlitos. So many people have died in my life and I feel that same anger, the same death wish where nothing matters and if I die, it won’t matter. 

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shitpost!

yall ever see the movie barcodes??? they are so cool like damn I wish I could print out my entire life as a barcode and see if the color in my life has any secret meaning like 500 days of summer or something close to it

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The Lyricism of Frank Ocean

without this man I would be dead. literally. Every single traumatic event in my life since nostalgia ultra went internet viral I have used his music to cope. From my mom leaving me 9 miles away from home at a trader joes, finding out I have a dead twin, my dad dying last year, and so much more. If frank ocean ever needs me, I’d do anything for him. He has been my mental Tylenol. I keep so much inside my head and I know it's terrible for someone to even not come close to expressing themselves. All the while, I have tried and I have (hopefully) put so much love and effort into the people around me, but no one ever texts me first or even wishes me happy birthday...this will be a whole separate post probably on another blog...AnYwAy, FRANK OCEAN. I have read up on his upbringing and I see why he is so understandable. He lyricizes emotion through narrative that feels apart of each person, not just himself. Characterizing and personifying love, hate, heartbreak, lust, disappointment, and a plethora more. The most appealing thing about him isn’t even his music or the fact that he has pretty amazing music taste (see GTA V, blonded on spotify, and the blonded radio playlists), or the fact he made an ENTIRE magazine (boys don’t cry), and not even the fact he composed a visual album (ENDLESS). It is that he is just like one of us, wholeheartedly. See him on the street? probably won’t notice him. See him on social media posting to the world? never. He acts like a normal person who just like everybody else, is living. my favorite songs by him change weekly depending on how my life is going and that is the magic of frank ocean

ps. I love that he also is a major geek about Kubrick