onedayatatime-please

[onedayatatime-please]

Honestly it boils down to reparenting yourself & rewiring your own neuronal pathways & telling yourself a firm “stop” when you notice your mind slipping down negative loopholes & being present in the moment & enjoying being mid task rather than waiting for it to end & not thinking of inertia as your baseline and natural way of living

[onedayatatime-please]

Friday April 18th, 10:27 PM. 2025

I’m angry. I was doing so well, genuinely. For like a month and a half I was consistently happy. I had some dips but they weren’t major and didn’t last long. But for the past week or so I’ve been on such a nose dive and now I’m actively suicidal again. Every time I genuinely contemplate suicide and I think of all the ways I could with what’s in arms reach, I always feel so guilty. Cause I know how much it would hurt so many people and I don’t want to hurt anyone else but I want to fucking hurt myself so bad. I feel like my body aches for it.

I feel like I would have to write a note to explain myself and tell everyone how much they meant to me but also like I can’t really explain it. I have so many people who love me and I’m secure in my life and I’m doing what I always dreamed of doing - and I’m so fucking miserable and all I can think about all the time is how much I wanna just end it.

I have more in my mind but I don’t want to keep writing I just want to sleep

I’m not going to kill myself tonight

I’m not dead yet and I’m going to do my best to keep it that way

[onedayatatime-please]

Wednesday, April 16th, 2025. 8:01 AM

Sometimes it feels like my dreams are glimpses into alternate realities. I had a dream where I went back to the grove, but it was a version of it which only exists in my previous dreams. It doesn’t looks how it looks in real life but it was exactly the same as it has been in my dreams before. Although in the last dream I had in this grove it was raining, and the house was a mess and the garden was just all muddy. But when I went back to that grove last night the grass of the garden was thriving and green and they had laid out path stones to the back door and swingsets around the garden and everyone was there and was happy. 🪶 was there, and was very pregnant, and being taken care of by the house. In real life I don’t think 🪶 lives there anymore, they said they were being kicked out when the weather got warm, which is has, so they are likely homeless now. But in the dream they were warm and happy and well fed and they let me take care of them. I carried them from room to room and made sure they were all right. They told me they wanted me to be there spiritually for the child and act like an uncle. They kissed me and I felt loved again. Their current partners were there aswell, and I was happy for them - though I know in real life they don’t like me. When the baby came we all ate a big meal and slept for a long time. My mother called me and asked why I was doing this to myself- why was I going back into a relationship with a person and now a child which had already failed twice in real life. I told her that without the mess and whirlwind I felt like I was dying. That is true to real life. When I think about how my life is now compared to when I was with them everything now seems so grey and numb. It’s just work, all I do is work. I used to have someone to love who loved me and we would be together and cry together and things would fall apart around us but we were together. Now I am alone and I feel nothing. I know that in real life I will never be with them again, we want different things, it wouldn’t work. But I was SOMEONE I want to feel all of those things again. And I have been trying. But I am not a mentally stable person, and I am isolated by that. People think I am strange, or too much. 🪶 was also strange and too much. Which is why they were able to love me. It’s proving difficult to find someone like that again.

And I feel like i just got a peak into another universe, where things were better, and I was happy. And then I had to wake up in a world where I wasn’t.

I’m not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way

[onedayatatime-please]

Monday, Mar. 10th, 2025, 9:28 PM

I’m laying in bed trying to go to sleep and I had the realization that I’m alive.

I was reminded of the time when I was younger, when everyone I knew was on suicide watch and I alone was taking care of them. At the same time I was being regularly sexually assaulted, and beaten, and emotionally abused by several different people.

That was six years of my life. Six years of my life I spent in complete terror and panic from the moment I woke up to the moment I fell asleep. And at night all I did was have nightmares. I was fucking 12 when it started - and before that I had grown up in a household that was emotionally neglectful and bred eating disorders by the handful.

I’m going to turn 21 in two weeks. And I’m laying in bed and it just hit me that I’m actually alive

I was thinking about those six years, and it was like I blinked and woke up from a dream, and I realized I’m actually here - I’m an adult - I’m alive

I don’t think this will change anything, but it was such a strange feeling. Like coming up out of the water and you are hit with sound again

It just some how clicked in my brain that I’m not dead, or in danger, or still 12 years old

I can feel the buzz in my veins

I’m fucking alive, I’m going to do my best to keep it that way

[onedayatatime-please]

Saturday, Jan. 18th, 2025. 9:19 PM

It's been a while.

I saw a man speak today, he was a part of the Black Panthers back in the 60's and was arrested during this time. He spoke beautifully on the importance of community and self care in the revolution. He spoke about how the greatest enemy of the resistance is not the institution, it is the demons within the self which force us into hatred and isolation.

The event he was speaking at was in honor of someone who was murdered by the police two years ago. I did not know this person, but my friend at the time did. I went to this event somewhat spontaneously so I did not know it was for this person until this man started speaking. I was very suddenly hit with this great ache at realizing how much time has passed since this persons death and everything that has happened between now and then. When they were murdered my friend showed up at my front door and I held her while she seized and cried and we went together to a vigil where I prayed with the persons parents and loved ones. At the time, because I did not know the person, I did not find it in myself to grieve them beyond the grief of the community - and I stood there not necessarily for them, but for my friends who were deep in grief.

The brother of my partner at the time passed away soon after that, and in a similar vein, I did not grieve him. I had never met him. But I carried the grief of my partner with me to try and ease some of the weight on them. It did not strike me until tonight how much being witness to that grief has affected me.

Now I think about how many times I have been witness to extreme grief, and shouldered it as a part of the community, but never have been able to actually hold it and touch it.

When I was eleven, and children across America were being gunned down in schools, and my classmates and I walked into the street and participated in a die-in. This was just weeks after a shooter had attempted to enter our school after killing two people in the street.

When i was thirteen and my friend came running to me sobbing because their friend I did not know committed suicide.

Watching the father of my childhood best friend die of cancer.

The grief these people experienced changed them, and we grew apart. I don't have anyone from when I was young. Im not sure why, I don't think it is only the grief. They changed, but so did I.

I changed so much I often look back on my writing and can't recognize the words. its like its in a different language.

i dont know what to make of the grief I have felt in my life. I dont know what to make of how much grief other people have felt. I dont know how it has affected me I just know that it has.

I know that I mourn the people who are no longer in my life, but I dont think I want to have them in my life. Not really. I think I mourn the time of my life that we spent together.

I am afraid of being left behind.

My ex partner was at this talk, we have no seen each other in several months and it was strange. I have been meaning to reach out but I have been too afraid. I have been afraid to discover that he has moved on completely and that our relationship did not mean as much to him as it did to me. Of course I know this is not the truth, he told me so. And I know the reason that we have not spoken in some time is because his life is a mess, and mine is busy. And I am at my best when I am hiding from things.

The longer I allow myself to forget our relationship the more I truly forget it. But i dont want to forget it. Sometimes I feel like him as a person and the past three years of my life have been erased. I cant let that happen.

I do not want to be with him anymore, but I wont let myself lose another person. I know how much I would regret it, i already am regretting it.

He is doing well, I am proud of him. He organized this talk and its the kind of thing he used to dream about doing. He would tell me all about his plans for organization and it took him two years but he did it. I walked in that room and it was like walking into the thing we had envisioned together.

He was holding hands with someone else, and that hurt. I cant locate why it hurt or where, but it did. I think it hurts in my stomach. I dont think its jealousy, that doesnt feel right. I think that a part of me hurts when I see him flourish socially, because it is something i have never been able to do. I know that when we stopped dating, he gained several partners almost immediately, meanwhile in all of these months I have only been interested in one other person, and it took me months to ask her out, and she rejected me. I crave the kind of emotional intimacy that comes with a partnership very deeply, i feel like I was made to have a person.

I cant explain it, but i really feel built to hold someone, to cook for someone, I think I was born to marry. Maybe not literally, but emotionally. To have that one person who I am devoted to as a lover and a caretaker. I crave it constantly. He never wanted that. He wants casual and quick and firey, and he fills those needs so easily. I think if it is jealousy, that is what I am jealous of. He knows how to get what he wants. I dont mean that in a negative way.

He is able to see the strings connecting everyone and dance on them light tightropes.

I cannot.

When I see people in a crowd it is just dark murky water, and Im either swimming with my eyes closed or treading water on the surface, trying to catch my breath.

I just want somebody. I dont know who they are or how to find them but I want them badly.

I tried to make him into that somebody, and it was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole.

I want to be better than I am. i think im getting there.

i dont know where i started with this or where it has gone but I dont want to write anymore.

im not dead yet, i will do my best to keep it that way

[onedayatatime-please]

Oct. 2nd, 2024, 6:24 pm

In my dream last night I watched my best friend step in front of a train over and over. Today my body feels heavy and craves pain. My heart beats too fast and I want to die.

I’m not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way.

[onedayatatime-please]

Thursday, Sept. 19th, 2024. 6:18 pm.

Depression hit me like a truck about an hour and a half ago. This is the first time I’ve been genuinely suicidal in a while. There’s no reason, it’s just the craving. The want to maim myself is a great hunger in of itself. It itches under my skin and makes me want to rip myself apart. My heart beats so fast when I’m like this I can’t move and I can’t settle. My body twitches and spasms while my mind feels stuffed with cotton. I want to hurt myself in anyway possible. Not out of self hate. But just to change the feeling. The thought of killing myself swings around in my brain like the spinning lantern of a lighthouse.

I will not hurt myself. I will not starve myself. I will not kill myself.

I’m not dead yet I will do my best to keep it that way.

Edit:

Wrote this small bit of poetry

[onedayatatime-please]

Thursday, September 12th, 2024. 4:44 pm

Will be using this to just jot things down from now on. Back in school and cannot keep up with daily posts.

Anyways I realized today that I cannot remember my parents comforting me when I was really upset when I was a small child. My mom started comforting me in like early highschool, but before that I would always hide whenever I was really upset. And so all of my youngest memories of having panic attacks are of me alone huddled in a bathroom and dry heaving while trying not to make any sounds. My first memory of this was when I was maybe 7. I never went to my parents because if I ever got upset around them they would laugh at me or be angry. The one time I remember my mom comforting me in any way was when I was in kindergarten and was being bullied on the school bus home. I had made a drawing I was proud of and some older kids took it and started ripping it into pieces and throwing it out of the bus window. I got off at my stop and I was sobbing and I have a very clear memory of my mom being on the phone and saying “Hang on, I’ve got to go, my kid just got off the bus crying.” She held me and talked to me afterwards but all I really remember was her saying that and sounding vaguely annoyed.

I’m not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way.

[onedayatatime-please]

Tuesday, Sept. 3rd, 2024, 7:42 am.

Had a dream last night where I wandered through my grandparents house and ended up in their old garden and a man was there and accused me of squatting in the house (he was the caretaker) and told me to prove that I was their grandchild and I started listing off all of these things from my childhood and got really intense flashes of memory. Like the dream space that I was in didn’t look how my grandparents house actually looked (but it’s a version of it that I go to in my dreams repeatedly) but then I got these vivid images of their real house in my mind in the dream. I even got smells, like the smell of the Apple trees in their back yard, and of my basement in my old house where we raised the kittens we would give them. Also while I was saying all this I was crying. Like full on choked sobbing, feeling like I was going to vomit, could barely breathe.

My grandparents are dying and I know my mind is not prepared to grieve them. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when they go. Everytime I have one of these dreams I’m reminded of how much I’m not ready for it. I often mourn losing the spaces of my childhood, like my grandparents house, or the house I grew up in. I don’t know where I would even begin to mourn my grandparents.

[onedayatatime-please]

Monday, Sept. 2nd, 2024. 10:34 pm.

“I saw the future in a dream last night…

Somebody’s gonna get hurt

I Hope it’s not me

But I suspect it’s going to have to be.”

[onedayatatime-please]

Monday, Sept. 2nd, 2024. 10:23 pm.

I’m still alive! I haven’t posted in three days but alas I have been packing. I’m finally back in school. Very happy to be here. My room is still a bit barren and glum but I’m hoping to fix that soon. Classes start on Wednesday.

All of my joints hurt so bad it’s like a stinging throb. And I’m so tired. I’m still in summer brain it’s very weird.

I’m nervous about seeing 🪶 again and I’ve just been trying not to think about how anxious it makes me.

I’ve been distracting myself with the terror, which honestly might be the best thing to do because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing in general.

I also finished my portfolio website and have been getting many messages from folks saying how much they enjoy my work which is also a relief. I was half expecting the people in my life to start telling me how they didn’t like it or how they would do this or that differently. Most of my anxiety is just that I genuinely expect the worst reaction from someone everytime. At least then I’m usually pleasantly surprised. Wild how like five shitty years in your teens can completely change your brain chemistry to the point where you feel the need to chronically lie to hide and protect yourself. I hate PTSD make me normal again the fuck. I was okay once I can be okay again. I actually don’t think I can. I think with the levels of PTSD I have I’m just gonna be a little bit crazy forever and some aspects of it are gonna get worse. And I just have to find ways to live.

Find ways to live. The name of the game.

I am so sleepy.

I’m goin to bed tomorrow we are doing a trip to the bins to get stuff for the house. Very exciting.

I’m not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way.

[onedayatatime-please]

Thursday, Aug. 29th, 2024. 10:38 pm.

Captains log: nothing much of note today.

Got work done and I am preparing for the next two or three days of crunch. I set sail up the coast this Monday and I have lots of work and lots to pack. All of which I have technically had months to do, but I genuinely can’t convince my brain to do anything until it is so last minute that I have a panic fueled rush and get it all done in a few hours. Ya know how it is.

In other news we were blessed with a picture of JFJ smoking in a parking lot while wearing a white dress so. We are eating well tonight, lads.

I’m not dead yet, i will do my best to keep it that way.

[onedayatatime-please]

Wednesday, Aug. 28th, 2024. 10:21 pm

"And I was on the island and you were there too But somehow through the storm I couldn't get to you, Oh St Jude, somehow she knew And she came to give her blessing while causing devastation And I couldn't keep my mouth shut, I just had to mention Grabbing your attention

St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes"

[onedayatatime-please]

[onedayatatime-please]

Wednesday, Aug. 28th, 2024. 9:53 pm

Im so far gone. I need to crawl inside the bodies of those 19th century Arctic explorers like Luke Skywalker crawling into the stomach of the Tauntaun.

Tried to explain the concept of cannibalism as symbolism for queer love to my mother and she didn't get it. I dont think its that farfetched or weird, but she was very grossed out. Personally, I think cannibalism, especially when it uses biblical references, is one of the most beautiful ways to symbolize queer love. But thats just me.

*in Stefan voice*

This Arctic Exploration has everything. Bears, twinks, femmes, butches, real actual bears (the animal), not a man not a bear but a secret third thing, cannibals, gay cannibals, characters who within the narrative are used as effigies of Christ, characters who within the narrative are used as effigies of Christ and are also gay and ask their gay lovers to cannibalize them. A transgender monkey named Jacko that the gay cannibals make little outfits for. Exploration of gender expression through victorian drag. Caulk.

"I'm not Christ" -- says the man with the wounds of christ.

I'm so tired. I hope I have a lucid dream where I'm dying of lead poisoning and scurvy and Im sleeping on cold shale but at the very least I get to look JFJ in the eyes and tell him hes a freak <3.

havent been this happy in ages. i also havent been less productive in ages. audhd is one hell of a drug

Im not dead yet, I will do my best to keep it that way.

[onedayatatime-please]

Tuesday, Aug. 27th, 2024. 10:47 pm.

this is how those pictures sound

[onedayatatime-please]

Tuesday, Aug. 27th, 2024. 10:46 pm.

Don't have much to say today so here are some photos ive taken throughout my life which look how my brain feels.