#solution: isolate myself even harder

[davidlynchfilm]

i already knew is self isolated too much but goddamn it is getting impossible to talk to anyone lately because i feel like i just don’t know how people have normal conversations anymore anytime i open my mouth people just look at me weird because they don’t know what the fuck i’m trying to say

[tsuutarr]

So I may or may not be a little (aka a lot) charmed by all of your characters because, my dear, they are absolutely AMAZING and super charismatic!

and then I found myself wondering how they would react if their darlings got a little depressed about how miserable their social life has become... I mean, how do you manage to keep your mental health up with a total of ONE PERSON in your life?!

I was thinking about this because I'm Brazilian, and we are social creatures ya'know, we NEED other people to keep living and believe me, the pandemic situation DID NOT HELP IN THAT ASPECT OF US. Besides, we are touchy people, we greet each other with kisses on the cheek, long and deep hugs whenever we feel like it and I don't really think the oc's would appreciate our affection being distributed like this 😞 unless is with them, which is totally possible because if we are touchy with strangers, with the close ones we are SUPER lovey dovey.

If you could ease my curiosity about this aspect, I would be very, very happy 👉👈 and I don't mean it's just this specific scenario, just being depressed in general, begging for any kind of normal human interaction hahaha.

Anyway, sorry for this LONG text, this has been on my mind since I started reading your works (and they are AMAZING, really, I'm in love with your writing style!). As I said before, I'm Brazilian and English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes 🤗.

Wowow thank you so much for your kind words!! I am so happy you like my yandere OCs + my writing style!! Also, this is a very fun request/scenario, tysm for requesting it :3c Your English is great, please don't apologize!

Here's the answer to your request down below!!

So, Jiu's case is really interesting because he has the intellect, power, AND money to ensure that he's the closest person to you even if he DOESN'T lock you up. He's basically puppeteering your life from the background while giving you a sense of free will (e.g., you got into your specific college because of HIM, you got your specific job because of HIM, and so on). Getting him to isolate you from society would only really happen if you rejected him/began to distance yourself from him.

If you got too lonely because you could only interact with him, Jiu would cosplay and roleplay any person/character you wanted to in order to give some illusion of diverse human interaction. If you became depressed, he'd get you a therapist and anything else you might need, but... make no mistake, that therapist (while licensed properly) is NOT on your side.

On occasion, Jiu would allow you to interact with his paid workers while he's watching. Like, he'll hire a "friend" for you (who only visits at 11 AM on Fridays) and let you talk to the nanny and stuff, but that'd be it. Now, he'll be controlling your life from the frontlines rather than the backdrop and there's really nothing you can do about it, oops.

For Finley... he's actually a very clueless yandere + extremely pathetic. His emotions are very volatile so he's easy to upset/please. When he isolates you from society, it's because he thinks it's for the greater good. People are so corrupt, can't you see? He's only doing it to protect you. If you got depressed due to only being able to interact with him, he'd just cling even harder to you. After all, you're lonely because he hasn't been spending enough time with you, right (wrong)? For him, he'd understand that you seem sad, but he wouldn't understand why. He's just protecting you! Though, he may get you some pets -- he's VERY partial to animals and likes them quite a bit more than he likes humans.

Oh man, so Tynan has mind magic, so his solution is pretty messed up. He'll either hypnotize you to be okay with your situation OR give you dreams where you interact with people. His dream magic is scary because it's genuinely really hard to tell dreams from reality, so before long, you'll be tricked into thinking you spent time with the people you love when really, you were sleeping on Tynan's lap the whole time.

As for the abandoned water god... he does care about you, but not enough to let you interact with other people, even if you're feeling depressed. After you basically helped awaken him after he was forgotten for centuries, he's super obsessed with you. He doesn't need anyone else as long as he has you, so he thinks that you don't need anyone else since you have him. He'll take you to go see a bunch of sea animals, though! But those sea animals are the only other living beings you'll see. Not to mention that he's practically cursed with immortality, sooo... yeah, you're not escaping him.

Finally, for the farmer... he lives pretty isolated on his big farm anyway, so if you're his neighbor, you're already kind of isolated from everyone else. The farmer isolates you by making you dependent on him so you'll stay by his side willingly rather than locking you up. For the most part, he'll actually let some people (who are not romantically interested in you) visit you -- in fact, he actually doesn't mind it if your family visits because they all adore him (and it's so so so cute to see them tease you about how you must be dating him). But woo boy, you are very very very rarely going to be able to leave the farm. Issues crop up one way or another: blocked road, punctured tire, empty gas tank, etc... so, really, you can't leave. Unless, well, he escorts you. But it might just be better to stay on the farm since it's much more convenient, you know?

[fairycosmos]

hi Chloe..... i just went out with my friends but somehow i still felt like i'm an outsider. they werent really interested in what i want to talk about. i was listening to them the whole time when they were telling stories but i felt like they didnt even recognize my being there with them, walking beside them. i just know if i was going out for a walk with you instead, i wouldnt be able to stop listening to your lore and having a good time <333

ugh i completely hear you and ive been there myself so so many times!! it's hard to internalise the idea that you don't gel with some or even most people without feeling bad about yourself along the way, and i dont want to undermine that - but i truly mean it when i say that if theyre not investing in you as much as you are in them, then theyre simply not the right crowd for you. and you deserve better <3 at the same time i understand how lonely this can be and how hard it is to feel constantly on the outside of things. i wish i had a proper solution for it myself, but i'm a pretty isolated person too irl. i've found that i connect with people one on one better than in groups, so maybe it's the same for you. i think as an adult it's harder than ever for most people to make friends rn, so please don't take their behaviour as a sign that youre not worthy or not deserving of being heard and truly appreciated. i would love to be out walking with u in the park, grabbing a hot chocolate and hearing ur thoughts on things !! absolutely criminal that we r seperated by the screen but just know in my mind we are hanging out fr <3 im so sorry your friends made you feel this way dude and i hope that with time youre able to find a bond that feels more authentic and comfortable for you. x

[my-illness-and-me]

Dear Friend,

I’ve been meaning to write this for a while now. It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to live inside a body that won’t let you forget it, even for a moment. Chronic pain is something I don’t talk about often, mostly because it feels invisible to everyone else. I can move through the day, smile through conversations, and still—beneath it all—there's this constant hum, like a shadow that never leaves.

It’s not the kind of pain that screams. That kind of pain gets attention, a solution. No, this pain is quieter. It lingers. Sometimes it feels like an ache in my bones, sometimes a stabbing sensation out of nowhere. There are days it’s almost bearable, like background noise I’ve learned to ignore, and then there are days where it’s all I can hear.

What’s hardest to explain is how exhausting it is. Pain doesn’t just hurt. It drains you. It’s like trying to live your life while carrying something heavy, all the time, with no chance to set it down. And there’s no telling when it will get worse, or better, or stay exactly the same. It makes planning things difficult, even simple things. Sometimes, I cancel plans because I can’t move the way I need to, or I’m so tired from managing the pain that I can’t imagine sitting through a conversation.

I know it can seem like I’m distant or distracted. I don’t want you to think I don’t care or that I’m not present, but honestly, there are times when being in my body takes up so much of my attention, there’s nothing left to give. It’s hard to explain this to people who haven’t experienced it. Pain becomes a part of your life, but not in a way that you can see. If I could show it, like a bruise or a broken bone, maybe it would make more sense.

What makes it harder is the silence. Chronic pain isn’t something people talk about much, and sometimes I feel like if I bring it up, I’m being dramatic or asking for sympathy. But really, I’m just trying to be honest with myself and with you. It’s not about wanting pity. It’s about trying to make sense of this life, to explain why some days I’m not as present, or why I seem like I’m carrying something unseen. Because I am.

I’ve learned to adapt in ways I didn’t think were possible. I’ve learned to listen to my body, to accept that some days will be harder than others. I’ve learned that healing isn’t always a cure, but sometimes just a way of coping better. But it’s also lonely, in a way I didn’t expect. When the world keeps moving around you, and you’re trying to keep up through this fog of pain, it feels isolating.

I want you to know that even if I don’t always talk about it, it’s there. And when I cancel plans or go quiet for a bit, it’s not you—it’s this thing that has become part of my life. I’m doing my best, and some days are better than others. But I appreciate your patience, your understanding, more than I can say.

Thank you for being there, even when I can’t always explain what’s going on inside me.

With love, Aaron

[thefearandwonder]

Truth

An old friend of mine has retreated into social isolation, which I could have taken personally. But we've been through a lot together in our lives and I refuse to take anything he does personally. Have to give grace if you want to get it.

He said he wants to get away from the self so influenced by other people and find his center. I think that's a great idea. I'd like to do it myself, but it's a scary thought; even when I'm alone, I'm not truly alone. I reach out to people, I meet new people in virtual spaces, I write stories with others, and always look for social stimulation.

How much of me is 'me'? But, is 'me' something worth defining?

Because for a long time, I've seen myself as a hollow shell battered around by the world, filled up with its energies, emptied, charged up, wrung out, and again and again. I don't like to see myself, because myself is a dragon, a towering egomaniac, a striving and suffering lunatic who hurts herself with the intensity of her ambitions.

The only thing chasing ambition has ever gotten me is pain; I slam into walls and doors, and the faster I'm running, the harder the impact. The smarter I'm being, the further into trouble I get.

My forays into the jungle of American civilization are never productive. They start out hopeful, then end in mutual misery.

You know, I was driving through San Francisco at night last week. I saw billboards advertising not just AI, but digital solutions for AI-generated-image-detection services. Anti-AI. In a sea of lights and concrete, I saw a targeted advertisement as I sat in rush-hour traffic, telling me that I could literally 'find truth' with a product.

And earlier that day, I'd been walking through Yosemite, where the ravens flew by the dozens like bands of kings, with their hooked beaks and proud eyes, their manes of spiky feathers on their chest -- they looked at me and I looked at them. We saw each other, and there was truth there.

And the people who call themselves 'realists' will tell me of the meaninglessness of that experience, that the creature is somehow beneath me, and my deranged mind is deriving meaning from nothing.

Or, if my interpretation of the raven's symbol pleases their vanity, they will feed me scraps and lift me up like a treasured Bug a la some Jack London-esque short story and make me their favorite poet-propagandist. I'll be their truth maker.

And I woke up this morning with the insulin catheter in my abdomen ripped free, something that's never happened before. It was 4 AM. I replaced it without making too much noise and went to write a poem about wanting to sleep that made me cry -- a poem I wish I could share here, but it's going into a collection I intend to publish and therefore in order to sell the rights to print it exclusively it cannot appear in other media.

Well, after writing that poem, and crying, I went back to bed and held my wife. We slept in each other's arms and that's the truth.

Then we were woken up by a call from an unemployment benefits adjudicator who asked very pointed questions about why I left my previous job, opened up old wounds around confusion, anxiety, discrimination, being targeted by malicious parents, and feeling unprotected by admin or HR.

I told my story (again). I told the truth. They, who agreed not to 'contest' unemployment benefits (I suppose that means not filing an appeal for the approval decision) will also tell their truth. But they did not tell me the whole truth when I made the agreement to resign in grace rather than work somewhere I was made to feel so unwelcome. They kept many truths to themselves.

So what is the truth. The truth is that more and more I feel like a gasping animal caught in a net of buzzing light that Just

Won't

Stop

My truth, the thing I know inside me so true and deep, is that when I die, I will hear the sound of wind in trees. It will get louder and louder, until it overtakes me. It will transport me. It is the holiest sound I know. It sounds like the sea. It sounds like the hushings of a loving Universe.

It sounds like the Moon waking me with her light, to kiss me on the brow, and guide me back to sleep, to let me know I am safe and small. Truth.

[rubbership]

I really feel what you said about being transmasc. I really have been affected by growing up female in a way that has forever isolated me from the male world. And I don't want to be a part of it. Men scare me. They traumatized me growing up and made me forever want to avoid them. Then if I really did transition what would I do? How would I act around them? How would I make the women around me feel? Am I really trans if I don't want to be like men? The circumstances aren't safe for me to transition either so that would make getting hrt difficult and being even slightly clocky dangerous. So what is the solution? I just feel like a formless blob that doesn't look like anything and doesn't belong anywhere

this is how i feel too, or very similarly. its so fucking frustrating because it's also like, it's not as if i got the "Girl" experience instead of the "male" experience either. makeup was literally regulated to ballet days only, outside of those my entire life i had dressed masculine for necessity. i had all boy friends growing up, every boy i dated always said they liked me because i was so much just like "one of the bros" and i was ostracized even harder from the girls than i was the guy. even a good chunk of the girls i did know growing up transitioned. so its like. its not as if i was getting something gendered instead of the boy experience. i was just getting neglected. and this is a major reason why i bring up that gender is so heavily based on presentation, because i was too disabled, too poor, and too weird to do the "girl" thing right i was barred from girl activities and social settings. no one was ever like, no we dont want your kid to come over because shes bad at being a girl/shes too boyish. they were just like. shes clearly a lesbian. or sick in the head. she taught my kid xyz which was not allowed! she wont do what i tell her to. shes to loud. shes too sexual. shes too quiet. etc tc etc. but because of that, the only people willing to hang out with me or have me over were boys, because developmentally i WAS lined up with boys my age. i was not developmentally (or at least in the parents eyes) lined up with the girls around me. i was slow, and loud, and animal like and sexual. but when i was with boys i was a delight to have. this also meant though that i was literally being ut into unsafe situation with boys from day one over and over and over, and because of my "Deviance" there was no reason to protect me. it was always either boys doing what they do when they hang out with a girl, or somehow my fault for bringing it onto myself. even though i literally socially had nowhere else to go unless i wanted to be completely alone. this was what i feel like 90% of my childhood was like, was this like. well you cant interact with girls because you make them into dirty lesbians, and if you complain about the boys doing anything to you, then you shouldn't have been a tomboy.

its made me terrified of men. im terrified of them. and the thing is, because i was around so many of them and experienced so many different things, i'm able to spot the actual traits that are freaking me out. its the fact that masculinity as a gender role is based upon violence towards weaker things, and for cis men to feel "confident" in their gender they feel like they need to be succeeding in this in some form to validate their gender and its because there is this gaping hole in a lot of cis mens identities where their gender should be. i mean, without dominance and violence being used for masculinity, what else do they have? any form of performance is gay. any form of self care is gay. any form of love is gay. any form of vulnerable genuine belief is gay. so what else is there? what else can they have? this is the reason why men have so many complexes in the first place is because they lack all of these things- and again, paralleling what i was saying up there about my lack of experience with gender, that's how i feel too! i have been restricted all of these things, being raised by a single father, who hated women. i have not been able to experience these things often other than the RARE few times with my mom like ballet. im having to learn how to do all of that piece by piece by hand right now. and i LIKE men, thats the craziest part. im a gay man, bisexual bigender yes but on each side of the spectrum i lean towards guys. which is just. crazy. right? because its literally like what the fuck am i even looking for. im someone who believes a woman can have every trait a man can have and still be a woman through and through, and if men arent defined by anything but violence or their refusal to engage with culture. then. what. what are men. what the fuck is masculinity. where is the line drawn. in my stupid psychotic understanding of gender theres like. humanity. and then theres women which is a social class you can choose to identify with, and men which is a social class you can choose to identify with, but femininity has so many options and masculinity is like. your options are working yourself until youre completely numb inside or become rich misogynistic and famous. and im like man i want to fucking kill myself. really badly.

sorry this is becoming a way too personal ramble/rant. the thing is its like my idea of masculinity is no ones idea of masculinity. i dont know what to say a lot of the time because i feel like whenever i describe my masculinity, people think i'm just describing that i want to be a woman? to me masculinity is like, being an emotional support animal. and my dedication to my art. my masculinity is frequently tied to my my feelings about clowns and performance and always being the entertainer for a lot of children, but also being the one who is like Firm and Serious As Fuck when it came to it. i used to like feeling lovably dopy, or super unserious, or kind of like the ~silly himbo~ type but the more i sat on it the more i just felt worse and worse about it because men use their ignorance as an excuse to get away with things or not work on themselves and society LETS them, and im like well fuck i really dont want that to be me? but when the fuck am i realistically EVER being perceived as a man, so that doesnt apply to me does it? or should it, because it should apply to every single human being in the world? at what point does tying my masculinity to physical features become misogynistic? when does applauding myself or celebrating my gender euphoria about something then become me putting down women for a percieved idea of them not being able to do the same thing? it makes me feel insane. i look at how much i wrote and im like jesus christ dude fucking calm down. but i dont know how.

im just peaking through the windows of gender. and i like suits and mustaches and the idea of being someone husband and uncle, and all of these things are achievable. but nothing can change the fact that i went through a lot to get here, and that informs how i navigate how im here. i just wish there were more protections i guess, im tired of people thinking im all good at handling myself with men who have shit intentions just because i say fuck and penis all the time. its like for some reason because im frequently read as a masculine girl people just conveniently forget that im disabled. and thats a form of misogyny im actively experiencing all the time AS a transmasc person.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi, I have a complicated history with a friend. We've hurt each other a lot and we've tried working on ourselves and starting anew but still keep having fights. Recently in another fight, I realized I have been a terrible friend. I'd say I'd do better but then life happens and I ghost the friend bc I can barely handle my own plate. I feel horrible about myself. I realize realistically that I can't handle my life and working on this relationship. And we both feel misunderstood/hurt by the other person. It's a draining negative cycle and it's sapped all the will out of me, on top of all the other things happening in my life. I feel like I am my worst self in this dynamic and I just want a reprieve from it all. I want to ask for a break or even to end it. I don't think I'm the right person for this friend and vice versa but I don't know if I'm just acting in a hurtful way again, as he has pointed out many times.

----------------------

What is your question exactly or what kind of response are you looking for? It's not my place to make such a judgment for you. Since you didn't explain the exact nature of your disagreement with your friend, I can only make some general comments.

Relationships with a "complicated history" are surely the most difficult ones to maintain, but they are also the ones you should be most reluctant to give up.

1) Close friendships are rare due to the time and effort and luck required to make them happen. It gets harder and harder to make close friends as you get older, which means, as you get older, you're likely to regret not appreciating the ones you've lost. An important part of maintaining close friendships over the long term is learning how to focus on the positive rather than nitpick the negatives, such that you're able to cherish each other despite the disagreements. If you have an issue of easily getting bogged down by your feelings moment to moment (i.e. being too narrow-minded), then it's important that you learn how to have a longer term view of things.

2) Close friendships are the perfect training ground for improving relationship skills. Since friends are generally flexible and forgiving, there is room to make mistakes and learn from them. If you keep repeating the same relationship mistakes over and over, is running away the best solution? Is it not better to learn how to actually solve the problem? In what ways are you contributing to the problem and shouldn't you want to improve on that? Are you certain that the problem is isolated to this one person/relationship and won't reappear in other relationships?

3) Close friendships form the backbone of one's social support network. You say you can barely handle yourself, let alone this friendship, which makes me wonder why you must draw such a distinction in the first place. Close friends tend to go through life together and are intimately involved in each other's lives. Do you have an issue with not being able to let people in to help or support you (e.g. due to fear of intimacy or fear of vulnerability)? There is a difference between someone "bringing out the worst in you" versus someone "exposing the things about you that you don't want to see". If it's actually the latter, then the real problem isn't the relationship dynamic but your own defensiveness. Overcoming defensiveness is a key component of personal growth, so giving up this relationship could be giving up a perfect opportunity to grow.

I've made the above points not to convince you to stay but to ensure you're seeing the bigger picture. All that being said, it takes two people to make a relationship work. Both parties have to be willing to give a little, to compromise, to implement necessary changes, to work toward something better, etc. If you're not willing to commit, walk away. Do you not have every right to choose your friends?

It sounds to me like you're experiencing frequent breakdowns in communication. A lot of disagreements can be successfully resolved through learning how to communicate your way through them constructively (see the related article). However, there are certain disagreements that can't be resolved, such as deep disagreements about fundamental moral values.

The takeaway point: The best way to deal with a breakdown in communication is to learn better communication skills. Close relationships are bound to have disagreements and conflicts. You must be able to accept this fact and learn how to resolve conflicts maturely. Being a poor communicator is something that will follow you into every relationship, so it behooves you to improve on this front. Whether improving communication will be enough to mend this relationship is your judgment to make.

[xartus]

Now that the frantic lust of adolescence is long past

I find myself more than ever missing what I once had. Or the possibility of such. Of being wanted be the same people whom I wanted

I'm quite positive that I would've had a date and some time of physical interaction by now, after the divorce, if I were still a woman. Yes, there were intimacy issues in the marriage but I don't blame neither she nor I

I was woefully unprepared for the realities of dating women not only as a man, but as a trans man. Its much easier to date women as another woman. I feel acutely the rejection by my ex and by society as a whole as a trans man

People talk about touch starvation and I've thought I felt it in the past but that wasn't this. I had close friendships in the past in addition to dates. Intimacy phyiscal and emotional, romantic and platonic galore. What I was feeling then was more akin to a type of lust, albeit a deep one. It doesn't even compare to the utter desolation, frustration, and crushing isolation that I feel now. What seemed barren before is a lush ecosystem full of life compared to this

I want to cry thinking about a girl kissing me, or embracing me. If that ever happens again I'd probably cry in relief from the human contact. I want to cry about how, holy fuck, I WAS wanted so much beforehand and I didn't even realize it. Compared to now, where its so painfully obvious that I'm not

Obviously I won't detransition as this is who I am and who I was meant to be. More indicators that this wasn't something I did for anyone except myself (get fucked, transphobes). I don't know what the solution is. I wish I had someone to be present with me, someone who I felt comfortable being so vulnerable in front of. And then someone to just fucking touch me with the reverence and care that I KNOW exists because I've felt it before. My person, my soul has only grown and gotten better; its the shell that's the issue

And that's the thing isn't it? The more authentic you are to yourself, the harder it becomes in a society not prepared for that. Like you the the spiritual- the more you know, the more you experience and grow; the less stable your foundation becomes, reality that you thought was solid becomes fluid and fleeting, and you ask yourself if ignorance really was bliss and if this madness is worth it. But you can't go back, and you don't want to, and you know you were you built for this gnosis because you sought it out

Circles in circles

[drowninginredink]

when/will you make more qpr changela content ??? 😭😭😭 pls my aroace ass is obsessed w them

Hello, so, sorry to disappoint, but I'm afraid the answer is never. I was burned out as hell from romantic content because as I'm sure you're well aware, I'm also aro and, well... have you seen fanfiction? Or actually, have you seen any media ever? Obviously I was sick to death of it. So I took the natural solution that most aros took and went all in on writing about platonic stuff... and burnt myself out in the exact same way. Yeah, turns out I'm aplatonic. Which is also why I very much fell out of smosh fandom as a whole. To me, the appeal of smosh was "woah, wouldn't it be awesome to get to hang out with awesome people all day and have your job be to just talk to them, but like... not actually have to have a real friendship or relationship with them. You have great conversations and then you go home and don't talk to them in your free time." And meanwhile the whole rest of the fandom's appeal was "isn't it so cool that they're all genuinely friends both inside and outside of work?" And the thing is, everyone else were the people who were right. So the second I realized that no, they are genuinely friends, because that's how most people are and most people do want relationships with the people they like... The whole thing just turned me off even more. Being in smosh fandom was constantly having platonicism thrown in my face, which was fine when I just assumed everyone felt the same way about other people that I did... But as soon as I realized they didn't? That these people had actual feelings that I don't have and didn't understand and frankly just seemed cloying to me? Yeah I ended up just unfollowing absolutely everyone on smoshblr because I couldn't stand seeing so much platonic stuff anywhere. And to be clear, that didn't just apply to the fan content. I can't stomach regular smosh videos anymore either because they now just make me incredibly aware how much I do not operate like other people.

Anyway please always spare a thought for the plight of aplatonics, because like, I know it's isolating as hell to be aromantic, but now imagine you also are not all that keen on what the entire aromantic community pushes as "well this is what aros love instead! We all want QPRs and our friendships are all the most important things to us!" And imagine how hard it is to find media without friendship OR romance. I mean I'm just lucky I'm allofamilial at least. And I mean, I am very social. I'm not one of the aplatonics who just feel like they don't need socialization and don't have friends, even though those apls are super cool and valid as hell. But I don't have feelings for the people I socialize with. Even the people who I really like and maintain consistent relationships with, it's that I like the activity of talking to them, not that I have feelings for the person themselves. To me, being with a friend group I like is a thing that I enjoy in the same way that I enjoy a cool place. It's an environment I like.

So yeah, uh, I didn't mean to make this a rant about how the aromantic hyperfocus on platonic relationships and QPRs and stuff is actually kind of bad, but uh... I guess that happened. Appreciating friendship is great! Do friendship if that's what you do! But don't act like it's an essential part of the aromantic experience or that all aros feel that way, because that isolates those of us who are aplatonic and makes it harder for us to discover that about ourselves because well obviously we must be inclined towards platonic relationships because that's what aros do.

Anyway these days I'm writing fanfic with a very, very different tone to my smosh stuff. I'm writing about deeply toxic relationships and basically writing romance as horror because to me, there is no way I could be in a romantic relationship where I'm not unwilling and trapped. (There's also a lot of sex as horror, but that's not because I'm asexual, because I'm not, but rather a dysphoria thing. Which is wild because I've been writing that way about sex since I started writing at like 13 and it took until like four days ago for me to realize a) just how fucked up the way I view sex is, b) I do not view sex like most people, and c) thank god other people don't see sex the way I do, it's horrifying. Anyway it's wild that you can live your whole life just not knowing how deeply unhappy you are with your genitalia). So like, it's not the wholesome shit I was writing to fit into smosh fandom, but thank god. I've always been an angst writer and writing that kind of fluff just wasn't me. It's nice to not be trying to fit myself into a place where I don't belong anymore. My writing is no longer happy, but I am much, much happier.

Well. Okay aside from the whole "now I know how bad my dysphoria actually is and can't stop noticing it" thing but heyyyyyyyyy I'll survive.

Okay that was one hell of a rant but hey. It was a long time coming and I'm glad I've finally actually explained myself and what happened there.

[thoughtsoffoxes]

I've tried to write something, do something, because I'm having a lot of emotions. I feel a lot of guilt. I feel a lot of anger over things that don't matter. I feel like I'm being over-dramatic, and that I need help. Things keep being difficult and they shouldn't be. I guess it's just a perfect storm of all these damn dominoes falling on each other. And I keep getting pelted with them. A whiny part of me thinks that it's everyone else's fault, the world, the people, my parents, etc. Another part thinks it's solely mine. If only I applied myself or tried a little harder, then things will be easier. If only I... Actually finished the book I was trying to write. If only I... Finished paintings that sit abandoned for years. If only I... Reached out to my far off friends and few bits of family. If only I... worked out. If only I... did something important.

People work day in and out for money. Side hustles, 40+ hour weeks, reselling, door-dashing, etc. I see the tiktoks of classes, seminars, workshops to "make up to 1000's of dollars a week" by using AI, by drop-shipping, by flooding markets that didn't need more shitty product. My friend and I did open an Etsy store to little success. She even wanted to sell t-shirts with prints of her paintings on the back, but no buyers. Plus, listing things on Etsy cost money. Not a lot, about 20 cents an item, but after a few months you have to relist and give another 20 cents to Etsy. Viewer, you're probably suggesting right now that we should've opened a booth at a local craft fair or tried local places. Maybe we should have. But I much like my art to stay at home with me. I am their parent after all.

There's other people who go out and do things. They volunteer, go jogging, go to book clubs, go hiking, go travelling, go out. It's hard for me to find time, money, and energy to do these sort of things. Hell, I can't even travel out of the country due to lack of passport. I get home from work and all I can think of is nonsense that needs to be done around the house. "I need to do the floors, do the dishes, clean the bathroom, put away laundry." And I barely get around to half of those things. When my partner and I have time off together, it's mostly used to go grocery shopping or other errands. Even if all the stars align, the weather's nice and we have the time, my partner has chronic pain and we can't go exploring Colorado like I've been wanting to for a while. Even on the internet, I feel isolated. I guess because I don't reach out or do anything. I mean this entire blog is the most I've posted on the internet in a long time. People talk about Discord servers and I don't understand. People have group chats on Instagram and I don't understand. I've made one internet friend and it's been five years since we've talked, but I do hope sincerely that they're doing well.

If it isn't obvious, I do write. When I was in middle school I wrote a lot of fiction, mostly based off of roleplays I'd do. I stopped roleplaying in high school and my ability to write kind of fell off. The 'book' I've been trying to write for going on 6 years now, only has a few chapters and I have literally no idea what to do with it. At first, I had written a bunch of lore and character sheets. I thought a lot about geography and what certain settings were like, but they were still all based on roleplays I did back in high school. Now, trying to write by myself there was very little coming to mind. I still get glimmers of inspiration but none of them are enough for me to open the document and let loose. These blog posts are the closest I've come to writing something. Even if it's just me moaning and venting about my frustrations with society or trauma or whatever. Hell I've even posted poetry, because hey, this is my blog there's no rules here.

Maybe this feeling of "I want to do something but I can't" seems silly. The solution looks pretty clear cut, just do the thing. Paint, write, play music, whatever. Just do whatever it is you want to do. I wish it was that easy, viewer. I feel like even if I was locked in a cabin for a month with all my paints, canvases, laptop with access to my book or empty documents but nothing else, and my guitar, I'd still come out and not done anything substantial. Maybe I'd make excuses or shrug because there was no inspiration. It is mind-boggling. Because of this lack of inspiration to create things, I then feel guilt or shame. Then that compounds onto why I feel no motivation to do these things.

Maybe writing classes would help, stirring some inspiration or stretching old muscles. I took a creative writing class in high school and I loved it. However, these classes normally cost money and I don't have it to spare. At least not right now. For painting, I have to be wearing clothes I don't particularly care about. I've 'ruined' t-shirts and pants and blankets from painting. I also don't like painting after I've showered because I usually get paint on my skin. The last thing standing in my way is myself, I don't have any idea what to paint. Normally when that happens I stick with ol' reliable. I find a nice color palette and draw some squiggly lines and voila, a cool looking piece. Maybe I'll take some pictures of them and post them here for you to see, viewer. For playing music, I have to abide by quiet hours at my apartment and I'll usually miss my chance. It's not like I'm playing drums or hooking up an amp to my guitar, but I already am a noisy upstairs neighbor who's gotten notes on the door so I'd rather not add onto it.

I guess I'm just getting in my own way, like I normally do. I'll just keep living and keep regretting over every little detail in my life. And live with it. Maybe one day I'll break out of this funk. Until then, I'll just keep writing here. Thank you reading this viewer, if you made it this far. I really appreciate you.

[shallow-wordsalad]

[Fate/Destiny Shift] - Kindling Embers II

I feel Berserker's pull from my mana steeply decrease. I could only see the aftereffects of his conflict with Archer, but he won. Speaking purely from a tactical standpoint, Archer should've fled the moment he saw us coming. Whoever his Master is must have no sense of how to use his own Servant.

—Amateur. They're probably some half-cocked neonate who got caught up in the swell.

My leg trembles and buckles under me, and my balance wobbles. The bullet in my calf feels only like idle buzzing, but I guess it did a lot of damage. I must be losing more blood than I thought. I should be happy I'm not dead on the ground, but more than anything I'm frustrated.

It's barely an hour into the War, and I've made myself a prime target. Why? How? Was summoning Berserker enough of a warning sign for other Masters? Did they notice my battle against Saber the other day? Why did Archer focus fire on me, and ignore Lancer and his Master? My gaze turns up to the night sky, as if the gleam of the moon holds the answer.

—I can't ignore the possibility they were working together from the start. If they were working together, Lancer was the perfect distraction. If I had put some thought into the challenge offered by his Master, I probably would've recognized the obvious trap. Were they always allied, picking off the strongest competitors first? Or did one just have something the other wanted? Maybe Archer knew he couldn’t beat Lancer and made a deal to survive. That doesn't answer the question of why I was picked as the target, though. Too many possible scenarios, and I don't even have half the information I need.

The one option—the worst possible scenario—yet remains. That this was a coincidence. I just so happened to encounter two aggressive Masters at the same time. An answer with no solution. Not one puzzle, but two, the pieces dumped in my lap, and I'm connecting them based entirely off of fitting edges. But fitting pieces together doesn't mean they belong. My fingers tremble at the idea. The winter air bites sharper than before—probably because I’m finally standing still.

—That idea still doesn't answer the question: 'Why me?'

I hitch my breath and force my leg to obey my commands. It shakes, and I stumble as I stand back up. A warmer wind blows my way, wafting from the wreckage of Berserker's rampage. He'll be back soon, and we can track down Archer's Master together. Without his Servant, I can press him for information—get a foothold on who I'm dealing with.

...But where could he even be? There was a second voice. I know there was. He was commanding Archer from nearby, so how could he have escaped—

I feel pressure against the back of my head. I hear the hammer of a gun being pulled back.

"—Zofastria," A hissing voice says my name like a curse. "Parusnyvostok's own Baba Yaga."

The cold steel presses harder against my skull. I don't move. I don't breathe. My first instinct is to turn, or to channel a spell... But his trigger finger would be faster than I am.

"Thought you'd stick closer to your rabid dog. Lucky me." How did he get behind me? We're on an isolated rooftop, twenty-stories up! There's nowhere to hide. And nowhere to run, either.

"Looks like you just can't help but destroy everything you come across." As if the man behind me is commanding my gaze, I turn toward the smoke and flames rising from Berserker's wake. "I guess some people never change."

—What is he talking about? Did something happen back home?

"Looks familiar, doesn't it? Smoke, ashes, screaming—must've been homesick," His gun softly rattles as he growls something incomprehensible.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I hiss, trying not to startle him. "What happened to Parusnyvostok?"

"Don't fuck with me, Zofastria! I was there—I saw you! I could never forget your face!"

—This man is insane. He's got some grudge against me for...for something. I don't know what he's talking about. I don't remember any fire back home! I just need to keep him talking for a few seconds. Until Berserker gets back...!

"I don't know what you're—" I try to speak, and feel a sudden impact on the back of my head. His gun rattles again after he's smacked me with it. His hand is shaking.

"Shut the fuck up! You took everything from me, you hag! So I'm taking everything from you!"

"What happened to Parusnyvostok?!" I bark, though the blood loss from my leg steals the strength from my voice.

"Don't pretend you weren't there! Your whole wretched family burned it to the ground! I watched you march through the fucking ashes!"

My head hurts. The hit to my back of my head is throbbing. My eyes are going hazy. Berserker... Where are you?

"Bet you weren't expecting anyone to survive. Well, here I am, witch. Tell the devil Grigory Zemiskov sent you."

I feel cold. A bitter wind cuts through me. Berserker...!

"I'll be sure to send your friend to meet you soon. You curse everything you touch. She'll thank me."

My vision sharpens. —A memory of yesterday. That bird. That spying familiar. It was his? Then... —He saw Youkage.

I fight my failing consciousness. Every part of me wants to rip this man apart. "Leave her—" I seethe. Every word feels like it's clawing out of me! "Alone!"

My words, my rage leave my throat—and a thundering landing on the roof near me responds.

A towering shadow looms over myself and the man behind me. A crimson light stares down at the situation with silent fury.

"—..." Not silent. He breathes, deeply. He sounds like a furnace ready to burst. His armor keens and creaks, his fingers flexing into a tight fist around his sword.

"Don't fucking move! One step and I blow her head off!" The gunman wraps an arm around my neck and puts his gun to my temple.

I glance to my right. He's closer, now. I can see his face. Haggard, pale, older than me.

"You would be wise to surrender." Berserker gives him one warning. Even the hostage-holder—Grigory—knows his situation. Maybe he does kill me. Maybe. If he thinks he can beat Berserker to the trigger at this range. If his finger is faster than Berserker's battered body.

"…Probably," Grigory growls, his voice uncertain as the full weight of Berserker's presence presses down on him.

—The cold air freezes. The two stare each other down. A moment stretches out into infinity. My heartbeat slows. —I feel the last of my strength leave my body. I'm bleeding out. I feel cold...

I hear a thunderous sound. Air rushes past my ears as I fall. —Berserker. Thank you.

[templeovnuit]

i cannot take a second longer of the debilitating loneliness, my carousel of masks im using and the shame i feel for relying on them for survival. i’m emboldened to say things like “i know damn well my loneliness is self imposed at this point” and “i do not have the luxury to keep thinking about my issues” when i am seen as someone able-bodied and lucid enough to take care of myself but stupid and compromised enough to be continued to be a doormat. im angry. ive asked for help and understanding repeatedly and been rejected by everyone i had because it got too complicated for them to handle. all im left with is deeper belief in a sense of inferiority that holds me in a cowering stew of self pity. all i want is the power i lost in childhood returned to me so that i might be independent enough to not need my hand held, so i can effectively help myself enough to help others the way i so desire that doesn’t seem to be as a baby i protested to my parents “me do it” when being made to do something by standard formula or when i felt brave and curious enough to figure something challenging out on my own. that strength was forcibly subdued by my parents -who for reasons still hazy to me- needed to cull this perceived opposition and sense of leadership in me and in result made me feel absolutely handicapped under the feet of people who will abuse me for the incompetence that was invented and enabled. they tell you your reckoning with this is just kneejerk defensiveness and you just sigh and agree with them because now it’s your duty to unlearn your victimhood in total isolation because it’s nobody else’s problem, but they’ll keep coming to you asking for solutions to their problems and tell you that now is not the time to be thinking about yourself in the same breath. i don’t think any of my friends know strange i feel but then again i have to assume they feel a whole other flavor of strange and only tell me as much as they feel safe to, just like i do with them. i don’t know. maybe i should try being a dominatrix and see what i find out about myself. my body is screaming that it cannot cope in a new way every single day and i am just trying to feed it things to be grateful for and ways to stop being masochistic. it isn’t enough. so of course i have to point to the obvious fact that this is a much greater issue and facing that greater issue becomes an impossible task to initiate all on my own, because ive been told by example and experience that figuring it out myself is both impossible and my only option. this is the root of my inertia. anyways im really glad i am going back to my harder commie values. would really love if the community would actually act like the allies they said they were instead of being the reason why people turn right. i don’t know. i know nothing. i just need to either increase my antidepressants or get off of them. i’m going to do more harm to myself one way or another because im either “too smart” or “too stupid” and i have absolutely no innate system of regulation to cope with the way im perceived and treated. no i cannot just get help. i am either told i am too smart and expected i should figure it out myself and then treated like an idiot when i ask for help and haven’t figured out the answer myself. the laundry list of psychiatric disorders is absolutely arbitrary and based on unstable environment and toxic parents. also, i don’t know what the fuck disability i have because i cannot afford the answer. i don’t know what the hell im supposed to do other than die at this point. and don’t worry im not going to because i didn’t survive pain that not a living soul will ever hear about for nothing. it cannot be for nothing. i have a strength and a voice i can only just now recognize in myself even at a point of despair, that i never saw before now. i’m not going to let it burn out. i just want someone who understands who isn’t going to prey on me. you talk about your weakness and the hawks come out thinking you’re a rabbit but u are a wolf and youd play with the hawks carcass if you ever gave a shit.

[iamdrowninghelpme98]

Entry 21:

2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s October, my favorite month. I love the weather- it’s so calm and beautiful, and it always feels like the world is finally letting out a deep breath. I’m trying to enjoy it as much as I can, but things have been so stressful lately. It’s hard to stay grounded when I feel out of place everywhere I go. I miss feeling like I belong anywhere.

I’m lucky to be living in a nice apartment with friends who are kind to me. I pay less than a third of what my share would normally be, and I feel terrible about it. They’re saving for a wedding, and I know they could easily rent this room out to someone who can actually help them cover expenses, but they don’t. They’re always trying to offer me food, too. I know they’ve noticed that I usually don’t have groceries, and that makes me feel even worse. I lie and say I ate at work or grabbed something while I was out because I don’t want them to feel like they have to take care of me. Sometimes it’s hard on the days when I really am hungry, but I can’t stand the thought of being more of a burden than I already am.

It’s like I have to hide parts of myself from them. I don’t want them to feel sorry for me or to feel like I’m dragging them down. They’re planning a wedding, and I’m in the middle of a divorce. I know it’s selfish, but it’s hard to be fully present for my friend’s happiness when I’m drowning in my own sadness. I want to be more supportive, not constantly retreating to my room or taking long walks to escape everything. But sometimes isolating just feels safer. At least if I’m alone, I can’t hurt anyone. Just myself.

I’m already dreading the holidays, even though they’re still a ways off. I need to focus on staying in the present and not get lost in worrying about what’s coming. Right now, the most important thing is staying sober. I’m still struggling, but I haven’t given up. The physical withdrawals are over, but the mental and emotional cravings are harder to shake. I miss the feeling of being high, of having some kind of escape from everything. But I know those feelings were just temporary fixes, not real solutions.

Even though I’m struggling, I’m still winning this battle. It’s hard to keep choosing to stay clean, but I’m doing it, day by day. And right now, that’s the best I can do.

I know the holidays are coming, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them from creeping closer. I need to figure out how to get ahead of the extra layer of depression they always seem to bring, but I don’t know how. I thought by now, things with my family would be better, that there would be some kind of progress. But it feels like nothing has changed. I did see my mom recently, but only because a pet of mine that she now owns was in the hospital. Even that didn’t go as well as I hoped. It feels like they only reach out to me when something is wrong, and that just sets me up to be upset or anxious every time. Then my mom throws it back in my face, saying she avoids talking to me because I’m always upset. Of course I am- it’s hard not to be when the only times they contact me, it’s to deliver bad news, never just to catch up or have a normal conversation. My feelings feel weaponized against me. It’s like I’m stuck in this loop where I look unstable to them, and they don’t even see how they’re the ones putting me there.

I know I could reach out, too, and that the phone works both ways. But I keep waiting to feel wanted, to feel like they actually want me in their lives. Right now, I just don’t feel that way, and I don’t want to force myself into spaces where I’m not sure I’m welcome. I want to be valued and cared for, not the person everyone skirts around. I’m tired of feeling like the black sheep—the one they avoid, the one they talk about rather than talk to.

At least my adopted dad and I have been talking a few times a week lately. It’s comforting to know someone else cares enough to check up on me. I genuinely smile when I see a message or photo from him; I can feel his love, and I believe in it. He listens to me without judgment, offers advice, and has even read some of these journal entries- none of which scared him away. I was actually so relieved he didn’t stop talking to me after he told me he read more entries than the one I had asked him to. I didn’t expect him to do that; I didn’t think anyone would care about my ramblings, let alone not view me in a negative light after reading my inner thoughts and confessions. But he didn’t judge me, didn’t change how he felt about me, he just loved me anyway. I do worry, though, about how my adopted mom feels about us talking. I’d hate for him to get in trouble for keeping in touch when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want a relationship with me. We haven’t made any progress her and I, and I’m not sure we ever will. It’s hard knowing that she doesn’t want to see or talk to me, but I also can’t blame her after everything. I don’t think my adopted dad could invite me over to their house or spend large amounts of time with me since she prefers my distance. I miss sleeping at their house, I would actually be able to get a good nights rest over there, I felt safe. I wish I could just go over there and finally sleep. Still, I appreciate every bit of his effort, it means a lot. I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to be apart of their family again, and I don’t want to loose my adopted dad too.

R is the only person who texts me every day. But I know why he’s doing it. He’s aware that it’s getting to be the time of year again that is the hardest for me, he knows I’m more vulnerable now. I can see his strategy- stay close, keep a line open, and wait for me to follow the pattern and run back to him when things get tough. I’ve fallen into that trap before, and I hate that he knows me well enough to use it to his advantage. And I hate that I’m an active participant in this cycle.

I’m just struggling.

Still trying to make sense of everything while holding on to whatever stability I can find.

[tears-of-boredom]

...today was so fucking tiring. and tomorrow i have to do it all over again.

i. its like. I know that if i actually just go, and make it my routine, it'll get easier. ill get to know the people so i dont need to stress over strangers, ill get to know the social practices and traditions that are unspoken. ill get used to early mornings. i just. I have to Do it. you know. i have to actually dedicate myself to this. because its only going to make things worse if the only thing im thinking about is how i want to do something else.

and I know i can do it. i did it last year with the fucking,, primary school i think its called. i know that im able to adjust, and when I get into the routine, i wont even want to like, stay in bed or just play on my computer.

the just like,. like muscle memory, except mental as well? like unconcious memory? like, it feels like my body just remembers how my whole school life has been, and reacts like it always has. so like. i am actually a bit unsure about how to go about dismantling that. like i need to make my brain realise that this is a different situation. that i have a decent support network, that i can actually relax at home, that i have the opportunity to alter my schedule!

that is like. a big thing. i have to have the courage to actually talk to someone when im facing a problem. because there will be a solution. and trying to suppress all my issues will be way harder than just fucking using the resources that are literally given to me. the school system is not actually as horrible as i make it out to be. at least not this specific school. there is faculty whose entire job is to help students with whatever issues they may have.

i just. I have never been good at asking for help. not because i didnt think i needed it, but because i thought someone else needed it more. even conserning things or resources that are not limited, like fucking advice.

i was gonna say that i hate myself, but thats not true. i hate that i wasnt properly taught essential life skills growing up. i hate that those skills are so difficult to learn later, because you've got to unlearn the coping mechanisms you created in place of them.

any time i was in the vicinity of non-new students, i felt like they were making fun of me. they definetly weren't, but considering how my last class was in primary school, its honestly not that weird that my brain defaults to that.

you know. i never considered it bullying. because no one threatened me, or stole from me, or beat me up, or hurled insults at me.

but it definetly was. i didnt feel physically unsafe, yeah, but i was constantly so fucking anxious and stressed, just waiting for them to do something. the way I'd race to every class, just so i could have that small moment of peace that came with sitting in an empty classroom, knowing that the rest of the class wouldnt show up for a few moments.

yeah i didnt feel physically unsafe, as long as i hid my rainbow flag keychain charm.

i feel like this is something schools should focus on more. instead of pushing "tell a trusted adult if you or someone you know is being bullied", they should like, like just advise kids on how to recognise bullying.

like, i was not social, by any means. i didnt go out of my way to speak to people. you know, i had anxiety. and also im autistic. i felt isolated from the rest of the world.

but you know what also makes you feel isolated? bullying. it makes you feel like nobody genuinely likes you, like your value is determined by how fun it is to annoy you. and it makes insecure people, like me, feel like the bullying is worth it. because no one would talk to me under other circumstances. they're practically doing me a service by interacting with me.

i dont wanna call myself stupid, because it makes sense that it took me this long to recognise this. if a child admits to being bullied, and you dont intervene because they said "its fine, it doesnt bother me",, you're not good at stopping bullying.

like just, even if the kid turns out to be right, the bullying doesnt affect them at all, not in the short run, nor in the long run. the bullies are still a problem. like, you dont stop bullying by protecting the vulnerable people from the meanies, you stop it by disabling the ones doing it. make there not be anyone who would do the bullying in the first place.

like this is genuinely just basic problem solving. you see a problem, you find out whats causing it, and then you fix the causing factor.

you dont just keep buying goldfish when your cat kills each one, you teach your god damn cat to not kill the goldfish.

i. im just so angry. it seems like every year, i realise that some case of suffering ive experienced wasn't "inevitable" at all, and actually its just that the adults in my life greatly failed me. again.

but everytime i convince myself that its not their fault. that for some reason my psyche just makes suffering inevitable. its an endless cycle that just completely destroys my trust. towards strangers, towards adults, towards myself.

but this has been going on for so long, from such a young age, that like. what the fuck would be left if i unlearnt this shit. everything's formed into such a cornerstone of my very being, that itll be as hard as,, unlearning how to speak. learning to stop your heart from beating.

im so tired, like, physically. ill see if I can sleep, but if not, ill try and find the courage to go tall to an adult.

[cerebipalsy]

I know I have people in my life who love and care for me…but politically, I’m by far the furthest left person in my family, and it’s so isolating that they don’t seem to understand how truly demoralizing the state of the world is, not to mention my personal issues with academic uncertainty, chronic pain and fatigue on top of that. Any time I’ve brought my views up, it’s turned into a debate or a full argument.

And that has effects on what I tell my parents about the way they treat me—my dad especially is a very “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” kind of guy and though I love him very much, he seems to occasionally forget that I will never get “better”, I can only find ways to work around my limits. I’ve wanted to tell them for so long to trust that I’ve already done my best on my own by the time I ask for help (even for little things like opening water bottles 😑). Who’ll let me breathe and feel my emotions before ushering me on to a solution.

I came to the realization recently that I don’t think I’ve ever felt truly safe speaking my mind around them—hell, I’m afraid to sit in the living room, especially by myself, because someone could come in and find something to pick a fight about. It’s gotten better in recent years than it used to be, but that apprehension is still there all the time.

And most of all, I want someone in my life offline who I can tell about my profound, chronic loneliness and who won’t immediately insist I need to try harder to socialize more. Who’ll touch me in the particular ways I can tolerate—I’m so starved for contact that I think about it constantly. I wish all my friends on here were within regular visiting distance—you’ve been my anchor over the past several years and I’ll always be grateful for that.

[unfolding-the-mind]

A Silent Struggle

Loneliness, for me, is not just the absence of people; it's the gnawing emptiness that settles deep within, refusing to dissipate. I find myself marooned on an isolated island, disconnected from the laughter, camaraderie, and warmth of human connection. This chronic sense of solitude has become a relentless companion, a shadow that taints every aspect of my life.

The link between loneliness and mental health is not just a theory, it's a stark reality that I confront daily. This profound sense of isolation has woven its tendrils around my mind, giving birth to a myriad of mental health issues. Depression, that heavy fog that engulfs my thoughts, making even the simplest tasks seem insurmountable. Anxiety, a constant companion whispering worst-case scenarios in my ear, leaving me perpetually on edge.

It's a vicious cycle, this loneliness and deteriorating mental health. The more isolated I feel, the deeper I plunge into the abyss of despair. And the deeper I fall, the harder it becomes to claw my way back to the surface. Friends, that elusive treasure that many take for granted, are distant stars in my night sky. I can see them, but they are light-years away, out of reach for reasons beyond my control.

In this desolate landscape, my mind becomes a battleground. It's a struggle to find meaning, to find a reason to get out of bed every morning. The days blur into each other, a monotonous loop of solitude and silent suffering. The laughter of others, a melody that once brought joy, now feels like a cruel reminder of what I lack.

Even in the midst of a crowd, loneliness wraps around me like a suffocating shroud. It's not just the physical absence of people; it's the inability to connect on a deeper level. Conversations become superficial, genuine connections remain elusive. The ache for companionship becomes a constant ache in my heart, a reminder of the void that exists within me.

And yet, amidst this darkness, there's a strange resilience that keeps me going. It's the glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things might change. But hope is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the harsh realities of life. So, I soldier on, navigating the labyrinth of my mind with a weary heart and a fragile spirit.

In this silent struggle, I've learned that there are no easy answers. No quick fixes or magic solutions. It's a battle that I fight every day, a battle that often leaves me bruised and battered. But I refuse to surrender completely to the despair. I cling to the fragments of human connection that come my way, even if they are fleeting and ephemeral.

So, here I am, a lonely soul adrift in a sea of humanity, grappling with the shadows that haunt my mind. This is not a cry for pity or sympathy; it's a raw, unfiltered glimpse into the heart of loneliness and its profound impact on mental health. There are no platitudes or clichés here, just the stark reality of a person trapped in the clutches of solitude, desperately searching for a way out.

And so, I continue this journey, uncertain of what the future holds. But in the depths of my loneliness, there's a quiet strength that sustains me. It's a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, a reminder that even in the face of overwhelming isolation, there is a flicker of hope that refuses to be extinguished.

In the end, this is not just my story; it's the story of countless others who navigate the treacherous waters of loneliness and mental health issues. It's a silent struggle, fought behind closed doors and masked by smiles. But it's real, and it's time to acknowledge the pain that exists in the hearts of those who battle this silent epidemic every day.