#might make this private later idk im embarrassed to post these anymore but also damn it do feel good to shout to a crowd not listening

[sucktacular]

venting ignore me cw covid, covid-death, existential dread, depression, illusion to suicide/self harm etc

we really are on the wrong timeline huh

every since 2019 (at the very least) NOTHING has been the same and I'm scared to death that it never will be. even close to it.

and i say this so so selfishly, because of COURSE it will never be the same!! MILLIONS of people DIED!!!! they literally woke up one day and died the next. wars and wars and hurt and torn political climates, etc etc etc etc etc etc its never ending

but from where I am, in my own little world, nothing has ever gone back to okay. im trapped in my house. my brain doesnt settle and my desires are secondary to keeping myself propped up. ive never been objectionably alright, and thats important to remember as well, but that feeling really lingers.

you know when we were teenagers and we swore up and down to ourselves that when high school ended we would some how die? that that was the end and there was no continuing? whether that was a self inflicted plot against ourselves or just the fear of the unknown, it had weight and it dragged with us even after. I escaped it for a while, kept my head up and kept myself busy and tended to my desires. but i was never good at trimming off the excess. Of spoon feeding myself nutrition or shading myself from the storms. ive always been neglectful of myself even when I've been selfishly present. and sure i can blame that on money for sure. when you lack the funds to tend to your needs and tend to your downfalls and tend to your selfish little wants it draaags you and it claws at your meat and it sloughs off your bones.

i survived high school and left everything behind, as I always have done. I took some time to heal after cutting people out and then I went to school. I felt good I felt right I felt promising. And then I crashed back down immediately. It took me years to pick myself back up and I never really stood up quite as straight. Then I had a job and lived with my parents. it was freeing but I needed to Leave. It was horrid and it was life sucking. I left and I was in panic for money for 4 years. It was freeing but it cut into my skin like ill fitting shoes. I was a robot only alive to finish my work, come home, and return to my charging closet to do it all again the next day. Now we're two years later of Nothing and my bones are poking through itching and itching and itching. but, really, at the end of all of these chapters in my life, my bones and brain have been clawing inside me since i was 5.

I feel like the clouds are booming overhead and the rain is just a millasecond away. that darkness around you and the smell has been lingering for 3 years at the very least. and everyday ive remarked "it's going to rain soon" like I'm 10 again, but theres no excitement left in my throat.

the easy answer is The Mental Illness needs treatment. The dirt ive grown my garden in is tainted and poison, it all needs to be ripped up and dug out and replaced. but i feel too that as much as I've always tried, since the first time my doctor told me "depression" and handed me those little rattling capsules. but its molded over and the weeds grow back and the slugs eat away my plants and ants make their homes deep inside me.

and i say all that and i still have my shiny little speck of hope that maybe im wrong and that maybe ill get better and maybe ill be okay for a while more and that things will be okay and that maybe one day i can have a flourishing garden and maybe it'll be beautiful and maybe it can even feed me and give back to my heart. and that maybe I'll have enough to give to the people I love and the people I care for and the people I want to surround myself with. but it feels like its getting harder to agree with myself that the hope really even is there anymore. i feel like i rip up my garden time and again and at this point its for the catharsis more than an attempt at healing.

i want to thrive and i want to bloom and i want to grow so tall, feel as strong and powerful as I did for a few moments in my life. but how do you even begin to overcome the Dread Of It All? I know, again, the mental illness will drain you out and fill you with poison. fill you with false ideas and false promises of terrible futures and terrible presents. but at the same time... I feel like it'd be so delusional to not feel this way?

i think one of the worst parts of a sick mind is knowing youre sick, to see yourself rot and mold and wither, and being absolutely powerless to stop it. thats why im so scared all the time. thats why I've been screaming in vents and readmores and even those embarassing facebook statuses filled with carefully curated lyrics no one cared about but only to give a chuckle and say "chin up, eeyore". its not the people. its not the places. its not so much leaving my safe spaces. because i know these spaces arent keeping me safe and well. but its the fear of Getting Worse and NOT being able to pick myself back up this time. its the fear of Ruining myself, my life, my everything with one wrong move. It's like trying to sleep with a nightlight, knowing that one day the bulb will flicker out and I'll have to either be brave enough for the dark or i'll have to be quick enough to replace that light. I've been reaching for nothing every day and night, and sometimes i find a hand to grab on to, but it always loses its strength. whether a fault of my own or a fault of time.

and i was simply never that brave. im only good at keeping my head down and hoping it away. but that doesnt fix me. im still so scared all the time.

im tired. im so tired. im a coward and thank god for that. it lends me more time, but im not quite sure its worth it.

and i think one of the worst things is the crowds asking me "what is your dream?" "what is your plan?" "what do you want from life?". and its the worst not because I don't have an answer, but because no one really understands where I'm coming from when I say it. No one quite gets it, they laugh it off, they say "oh thats everyones dream". The answer has been the exact same since I was old enough to really understand what it meant to hold it. and old enough to know that I'll always get a laugh or a chuckle or a brush off the shoulder when I let it leave my mouth.

"I want nothing more in the world than to be happy one day."

and of course everyone wants that. and of course everyone says that. and of course that doesnt quite Answer Your Question The Way You Expected. But it speaks deeply and it speaks my entire existence into frame. Why doesn't anyone hear it and understand what it means to be nearly 30 and have such a basic need of a dying wish?

I get it. it sounds dramatic. it sounds pathetic. it sounds silly. it sounds laughable and it sounds like its not been well thought out. Sure. And maybe when I was 10 and said that, it was a bit moody. it was a bit edgy. it was a bit needy. And when I said it when I was 13 it continued to be a joke to everyone and i laughed along with you nervously. But by 17 I understood deeply that I had never been happy. The closest things I ever felt to happiness at 17 also tore me to pieces. and sure, no one is free from bad things. maybe im just not the right person to be doing what I was trying to do. thats okay. sure i can grow out of that awkward 17 year old frame and I did and I got older and i got bigger and i stood more confidently and i spoke more freely. I wasn't 17 anymore when I was 20. I thought I was better, everything pointed to a future and a possibility of being okay. but I got worse and I got worse fast. I was 21 and I beat my fists on my sink and i stared myself hard in the face. i couldn't see but I couldnt think either. i growled like i was steaming over and had no choice in the matter.

"I want nothing more in the world than to be happy one day."

im not so alone anymore and i dont feel my heart twang that awful awful pain quite as much. but my wish stays the same. and maybe thats my fault for making it so vague and so misunderstand-able (thats not a word is it? lol). but how can i even move past that to plan and to dream and to really hunger for progress when, at the very core of my body, at the very core of my being, i've wanted nothing more in the world than to be happy.

i really thought for so long that maybe happiness meant a person, but ive kind of always known thats probably not the case.

i want to be loved. i want to be known deeply. i want my company desired. i want my words to be welcomed. and i want to stop screaming to a void.

and again maybe thats my fault. maybe im so entrenched in my own mind that I can't let people in. but I'm still 4 years old crying for my mom. im still 13 on the carpet of my basement, begging for someone to hear me. im still 16 begging for people to give me their time and affection, not really knowing what the really really honestly meant to ask of your peers as a 16 year old. im still 17 holding back tears on the bus ride home, telling myself "its worth the pain to have a moment of being "wanted"." im still writing lyrics in my statuses in my head and im still hugging myself to feign a piece of tender company.

im deeply alone in myself, whether thats the truth of reality or not.

"I want nothing more in the world than to be happy one day."

it means everything but its laughable. thats just kind of me though, right? laughable entirely, lol