I think I’m hitting rock bottom

Grandma: hey this guy on survivor, is he the same Q you dated? Tall black guy?

Me: no, the Q I dated was the drunk white guy I brought home that one time when he couldn’t handle his liquor and I didn’t know where he lived. He fell asleep eating a sandwich and left crumbs in my bed.

Grandma: oh, was he the “best sex ever” guy?

Me: of course that’s what you remember but yes

She was my best friend even if I wasn’t hers. And it took this for her to message me again, just to get her things handed off to a sibling. Why does it hurt so bad if I don’t want to be her friend again.

People who write and read and ship rpf genuinely make me so mad. Like those are REAL PEOPLE. With REAL thoughts and REAL emotions. I would be SO fucking uncomfortable if I ever found out people were writing me, not a character but ME, into stories, ESPECIALLY shipping ones. A fictional character will not care if you mischaracterize them, put them in horrible fictional scenarios, or write smut about them. A real person can and will care to varying degrees. It legitimately feels like a violation of a bodily boundaries to me, because truthfully the only thing someone would get fully correct when writing RPF would be the appearance of the person, IF that. It feels demeaning. Like you’re saying “oh no you’re not a real person, you’re just another action figure in the sandbox.”

But like obviously I - anybody, really - can’t stop other people from reading or writing rpf. I can and will, however, avoid people who do so to the best of my ability. And of course there’s probably people out there who Wouldn’t mind being written about and that’s grand for them, go for it. I’m not gonna be a jackass to someone about it, I’m just gonna avoid them.

Love getting stood up for dates 🫠

Keep relearning my lesson and forgetting it the next second 🫠

I forget that I always get a little too honest when I’m high. Told my mom I might want to move out someday (like I’m really only living with her because I have no other option, frankly) and she got offended, and then when I was trying to have a serious discussion with her about how I feel weird about turning 25 this year and the state (or lack) of friendships in my life and how I see how she herself, who enjoys her alone time, still struggles with the lack of in-person relationships she has. It’s a struggle we’ve talked about a lot, and I was honest, that I didn’t want to be like her. She took offense and so I apologized and tried to rephrase, that I didn’t want to struggle the same way she does. But she waved me off and went outside for a cig and came back and was crying and like “you hurt my feelings, you don’t tell your mother you don’t want to be like her”, and went into this long rant about how all she wants in life is to be like her mother figure, for all the imperfections she has, and how she can’t believe I’d say that, etc

And I was like “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings” and she tried to interrupt and be like I’m not asking for an apology and I was like “okay and so? I’m still sorry for making you feel this way. I do however think what I said was taken out of context-” and she cut me off with “okay that is so not what this is about” and stomped away to her room and I’m just dumbfounded because like

Is that not what it was about? I hurt her feelings and made her feel like I didn’t think she was someone to emulate or admire in any aspect (which I may not but I don’t let her know that, usually successfully) when I was only ever talking about her skill at making friends, which was a known topic that we’ve had discussions about before and she constantly complains to me about. So yes I was sorry, but also yes she was taking my words (that I had already originally taken back, apologized, and rephrased) and running with them. And refusing to listen to me try to explain. Does she only want the apology and the ability to feel like she’s in the moral right? That just leaves me sitting with misplaced shame and frustration. When I get an apology I want an explanation with it, especially if I’m misconstruing things. I gave her the apology but trying to give the explanation makes it null somehow?

I just really don’t enjoy the way I am treated by her or the way she makes me feel. I know I need to work on my word choice but I didn’t deserve to be shamed there for something I’d already apologized for (twice) and was subsequently taken out of context.

Anyways I’m gonna take a t break for a week I think. Maybe a little less.

Enjoying work so much that I’m not even gonna call out sick when I should.

You know what I may have lost my friends but I feel like I’m starting a new chapter in my life? I’m reflecting on how I could have done better and trying to apply that as well as dealing with the hurt I experienced as well.

Friend says we’re not going to hang out today, gut continues to scream that they’re getting tired of me, brain continues to dissociate the feeling away because last time I acted on guts I got left

All i need is a place to call home that isn’t conditional. Somewhere I can have my big emotions without risk of being kicked out for being too much for someone’s sensibilities. Somewhere that I can have big emotional conversations with others without trying to squeeze myself down to manageable size for them. Am I never going to get that? Am I really too much? Will I ever find somewhere to feel safe? Genuinely, will that never happen? I can’t do it anymore if so I can’t

What am I supposed to do now? Do the same thing day after day? Until I die? Never feel happy, until I die? I want to give up

Lol the move did Not work out 🤪 wow who’d’ve thought

I feel so stupid when I can’t calm down like I Know what helps I just don’t have access to it and I’m so stressed and tired and I am scared

I’m literally sitting on the porch with my headphones listening to brown noise and trying to just breathe and I still can’t stop crying. If I stop to think too hard it becomes sobbing.

The kindest words I’ve ever been told were only ever said by strangers and letters to myself from when I was 16.

More people should be grateful I have self control bc if I didn’t I’d be taking baseball bats to kneecaps rn

I think the worst thing about living with my mother rn is that I Still can’t cut contact, because I would lose my home. She wouldn’t hesitate to throw me out if I wasn’t constantly pretending as if she never abused me. As if she isn’t still the same toxic asshole she’s always been. And she invited me to eat with her tomorrow and I said yes bc what broke person in this fucking recession turns down free food, and then she’s like “oh and we’ll see the Barbie movie after!”

I’m gonna go fucking crazy. If she tries to have a single conversation about how “great” of a mother she was after we see it (for my second time, so I know exactly what’s coming) I’m gonna just kms.