sorry i made you watch me while i tried to cut away the infection. turns out if you dont give enough margin it just keeps coming back. something to do with filaments i guess. spores, yknow? eventually you run out of margin and you run out of body and all thats left is the rot. pretty sure i hit that point long before we ever met. so, sorry i made you watch. sorry you were just collateral damage. sorry that you didnt make it worse but you couldnt make it better and you couldnt understand that which is pretty much the same thing in the end. sometimes i wish id carved you down with me. sometimes i wish id never picked up the knife. usually i just wish youd been able to get it through your thick skull that the blade was more a part of me than the hand that held it. i walked past your apartment last night and the glow from your window almost made me forget the part that came after i realized the infection wasnt slowing.

men will feel inexplicably shitty despite objectively good things happening in their lives only to idly flip thru calendars/journals from a few years back and realize Oh Yeah That Was Three Years Ago, Huh.

thinking abt how i want to live forever superimposed over my belief that life and existence are only meaningful bc they end superimposed over my belief that traditional mortality is far too short to fully appreciate life in any aspect let alone a single one vs how everything ends and i am less than equipped to handle it and i am down to my last surviving grandparent and my older mother laughs at dreams involving her deceased forefathers when i sleep next to a prophetic dream amplifying tapestry bought out of ignorance and kept out of terror and hope intermingled into something unrecognizable and Terrible and how i want all that i see beneath it to come true and yet dread it at the same time b/c it would mean horrific tortures and unknown boons alike. like i would finally physically reflect how ive felt the past four plus years and still retain all i hope to gain but at what cost. lord at what cost.

cptsd is so fucking stupid bc like. never being able to return to ur childhood home is whatever until u have the urge to take up charcoal drawing again (which u were never good at in the first place) and u cant just pick up ur old bag of willow charcoal on an ill-conceived, impulsive daytrip home

sorry but the way that if you are punished extensively for the slightest toe out of line you make yourself small and learn to shape yourself into what anyone else wants you to be in that moment. and the way that then you are twenty-one and have no idea who you actually fucking are

woke up in a wretched mood bc i slept thru all of my alarms & had a weird dream &also i forgot to do my shot yesterday and then i went to the library to poke at some vaguely interesting books and get one i need for class and only the class book panned out AND THEN i went 2 do self checkout and the little machine told me to get fucked and go to the circulation desk -_- n the girl working the desk was like wow thats weird! anyway i missed my bus home and its raining so now i am Wet

my mom was like ohh we never came up w something to do while u are home oh nooo... what if tomorrow afternoon we went downtown to see the holiday stuff and i was like internally like. i went and saw that every year growing up w other mom which isnt fair to say to u bc u were the only one working but. and then she was like and then we can come back home and do my bonfire idea :) and all bitterness suddenly evaporated

not 2b like cheesy corny oh ive done so much growing :) or whatever but like literally i realized how like weirdly stable i am these days in my interpersonal relationships n like. i clean now! i literally just cleaned my old bedroom for tenish minutes unprompted and then was mad its too late to use the vacuum bc my mom is asleep and like. even a year ago when i was already cleaning more than i did as a Teen™ i would not have changed my sheets AND swapped my comforter for a clean blanket AND wiped down my bedside ““table”“ (one of those cube storage things) AND then lit a candle. like one or two of those things maybe but not all of them.

also ive?? learned to small talk????????

my mom and i watched tan gled together the other night n jesus christ it was just as painful as suspected

like she was like oh the villain is the queen of passive aggression and i was like hi. could u self reflect for a minute. bc u literally acted like that around when this movie came out. anywya.

mothers day is like day of the year where you realize how much therapy you need. jesus christ.

i texted both of them but i hesitated w E and it wasnt because i dont want to claim her as my mom but because i DO want that but the whole mom thing is so. tainted bc of arguments about her with J/T which is soo unbelievably fucked that a. they happened and two. they are still affecting me being able to call my mom Mom. like jm at the point where i can do it when talking abt her to other people and i managed to say it to her ONCE in a store YEARS ago and like im pretty sure ive wished her a happy mothers day for a few years now but. ugh.

hate having complex and nuanced xperiences feelings etc. cant i just go back to punching my friends annoying little brother bc he said girls were weak and then get dragged away before i could break his nose bc he tried to laugh it off. cant i go back to jumping off swings and laying down on the carousel until i wanted to throw up but landing didnt hurt my ankles so bad and i could lay there for more than five seconds.

ok ok forget literally anything else that comes w being home for break the worst part is that while i was living alone i got totally used to just ignoring my echolalia n now i have to remember that other people like. get annoyed by it. i mean fuck you noises are fun to make and i also cannot stop myself sometimes. but.

the number of times that while driving or otherwise reasonably alone i have just started making noises for the hell of it is exactly the same as the number of times i have been driving or otherwise reasonably alone

wuz gonna joke abt how none of my scars even have a good story behind them anyway bc theyre all from like mosquito bites i couldnt stop scratching or things that got infected bc i couldnt leave them alone etc except like lol. there are five that have Stories attached and only one of them was actually an accident. ok six and two but like. lol.

im sick of being the driver!! i want to be the passenger!!! i want to look out at the stars zipping by and then over at the driver and i want to feel like theyre safe with no caveats

i love going to my best friends house and being annoying and loud for an hour but TOGETHER....

was going thru my old text posts n saw one abt me being excited abt the prospect of even using my living room and like holy shit bc i literally only go in my bedroom when im sleeping or getting dressed and sometimes i sleep on the couch so really mostly just when im going to sleep and like. goddamn.

its only been three months but i feel like everythings back to normalish for the first time in Years

ogujfhbfg me breathing normally for the first time in weeks bc i 1. got things done today and 2. am drunk as shit so im not worrying abt future or past things and am simply vibing in the moment. need to get a doc and maybe get benzos perhaps

thee way that my tarot cards have been nothing but optimistic all week and how ive been like ok. but good things WHEN n it feeling like a taunt until tonight where it became a comfort.

tomorrow i will be okay. no matter what i WILL be okay and on monday i am going to contact professionals who will make sure that okayness lasts