basilramble

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There's actually nothing scarier than the inevitability of dying and I feel like throwing up any time I think about it

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I think my hottest take is that it isn't immoral to value your own life over others. It's just that humans don't like being the other, so we value people who put other people's lives over their own

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people always talk about reincarnation as if it's not really dying but it is dying. It's dying in every sense of the word. If you reincarnate and you have no memories of the life you lived before and you are an entirely new person living an entirely new life then the person you were is by all accounts dead.

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Having a fear of death is so hard because sometimes I'm just fine. I'm chillin. And other times even just thinking about the stars in the sky is a trigger and I have to hit the emergency button in my brain that ends all thoughts immediately to avoid having a panic attack

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I know I can get away from my dad but how do I get my mom away from my dad how do I keep pretending everything is fine how do I stop him from hurting her how do I stop her from hurting herself how do I get her to leave I hate him I want him out of our lives but I don't want to ruin his I just want him gone I just want him to shut up I just hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I'm so. Tired

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I need to get weirder

I lost it somewhere along the way

I need to stop feeling so ashamed

I need to stop being so afraid

I don't want people to hate me

I don't want to annoy anyone

I want the people I like to like me

I want the people I don't like to like me

I am so scared of being myself

I don't even

remember

who I was

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Maybe we're all just caterpillars turning into sludge in our cocoons wondering if this is all there is and all we ever will be, and one day when we're butterflies we'll look back and realize it was a necessary part of the process

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I think there's something fundamental about me that doesn't make for good friendship. I don't think I care enough about other people. I think I want people to like me more than I want to like people. I feel like one day my friends are gonna find people who are better at being a friend and realize I'm not worth it

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I'm an idiot

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Idk I think if you hear someone say "I don't want to show these people's names so they don't get hate" and immediately assume that's a dig at Dream instead of just an opinion to have, that's more on you than them

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It's weird to be loved by someone who hates what you are and what you believe in

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So my whole life I've been used to my interests being on cycles, sometimes I'm obsessed with drawing, sometimes I'm obsessed with reading, and sometimes I'm obsessed with video games. There was normally hardly any overlap, except when I started transitioning to a different interest. Any time that I DIDN'T feel that obsession, it was simply a matter of doing various things until something caught and I was obsessed again

But for the past year or two I haven't felt that obsession to the same degree. I still have the same interests but instead of a rotating obsession it is a muddy mess of trying to figure out what I can to do today because to do nothing would be deathly boring and a waste of time. Even when things do catch my interest its not the same. It's like the times I've been stuck between finding obsessions except it's been a whole year now

So right now I'm still interested in playing minecraft, it's been on my mind for about a month, but it doesn't have that grip on my mind that motivates me to play it in every spare moment I have. I hate it. I hate it because without that obsessive feeling the reward and joy of playing isn't nearly as strong and I feel like I'm missing something. So I try some drawing. And I try some reading. And nothing has captured me quite the same

And I think. What changed? What happened about a year or two ago? Why don't I have the energy to be obsessed anymore? Is it the pandemic? I didn't think it effected me too much but it lines up. Is it something else? Did I just change? I don't know. I hate it

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The worst thing about cleaning jobs is there's no such thing as a job well done. You can clean everything you were meant to clean for the day, but inevitably, and often soon after you clean it, someone touches it and it's dirty again. Nothing you clean will ever Stay clean. Your job is never done.

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I want someone to carefully pluck my brain out of my skull and give it a gentle, soapy, floral scented scrub, and then lovingly place it back with the utmost care. I think that would fix me

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I feel like self esteem is always measured as something you can have more or less of, like liquid in a cup. To have more self esteem you simply need to try and fill the cup.

But I feel like my self esteem is a blanket, and my blanket has holes in it. The holes should probably be repaired, yes, but at the end of the day I still have a blanket, and most days it's easy to forget that it has holes.

Some days I notice the holes more than others.

Some days the holes snag on my skin, or let a chilly breeze run through, and the blanket is no longer very comfortable. Some days I am ashamed my blanket has any holes at all. Why aren't I taking better care of it? Why haven't I tried to mend it?

Some days I wonder if the holes are obvious to others in ways that aren't obvious to me.

And some days I think that these holes aren't my fault. Someone else created these holes in my blanket and if I were alone in the world my blanket wouldn't have any holes at all

Most days I'm just aware I don't know how to sew

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I feel like there's a monkey in my brain that I have to keep entertained at all times and if I am unable to find something that entertains the monkey it starts screeching and banging on the walls and tearing the room apart

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My tinnitus gets SO loud at night, this is insufferable