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zipp0flare · 4 years

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I don’t know how to describe my mental state or mental scape. It’s a tangled mess of thoughts, worries, and things I’d rather forget. I always imagine it as a darkened room, the only light coming from a hardly cracked open door, one that barely opens much anymore nowadays. The main focus that I always see, though, is a corner filled with crumpled pieces of paper and aluminum foil. The foil being emotions that I can’t let out and have to keep bottled up, the paper thoughts that I’d rather not focus on, rather not let them take me over. Thoughts that I’d rather keep hidden away in that corner.

I grew up in a small town and was rather sheltered. I always had a hand on my shoulder that directed me on how to do things, and shielded me when I was having trouble. In fifth grade, that hand faded slightly, anxiety took over, and complications arose. In fifth grade, I slowly learned to not show the world what my thought process was or how things were affecting me. At ten years old, the aluminum foil began to appear.

The hand came back, recovered, and we moved on with life. I still crumpled foil and paper though, still repressed things that I couldn’t/wasn’t able to deal with at the time. Either because I didn’t know how to process it, or because it just wasn’t the time to do so.

Time passed and the hand continued to guide me and shield me. And I relied on that hand. Relied on that hand a little too much, because the hand was always willing to take over for me, answer questions. Helicopter in a way.

When I was 24, the hand began to fade again. Complications arose. We had hope. My dad knew better though. He stayed silent, while my sister and I tried to work things out. He saw what would come.

At 25, things became worse. She could barely move. She was in and out of the hospital until October, where she stayed in the hospital. My father didn’t say much. We visited. My sister found out what was going on and immediately flew back home in November and stayed with us for the next few months.

December of 2018. Four days after Christmas. Everything fell apart. Further complications happened and my sister and I met my father at the hospital. Decisions were made. And I watched as my hand, my guide, was taken off life support. Minutes passed, feeling like hours. I watched her struggle to breathe. I watched and waited, hoping it would end soon, please, for the love of god let it stop, let this last gasp be the final one. I wish they had kept the heart monitor hooked up. The memory of that beep would have probably kept me up at night, but at the time I didn’t care. It would have cut down on the guessing, the waiting. That beep would have let me know that that final breath WAS the final breath, and wouldn’t have left me standing there and hoping another didn’t come. I’ve only told one other person this story. Anyone else who knows what actually happened only knows because they were in that room when it happened.

I went to Facebook. And let those who were my friends know what happened. It. Was. A. Mistake. Immediately people rushed to try and take the pieces that I had become, flying from left and right and offering, offering, offering to put me back together. I didn’t have many friends growing up. And this many people coming to me and thinking they could take the broken pieces and push me back together was too much.

I disappeared from social media. All that time I spend on Facebook shitposting was gone. Every so often I’d try to come back. Only for people to come rushing again and unintentionally driving me away. I don’t know how to open up to others. I don’t know how to tell people what’s going on with me. I don’t know how to tell them that I just don’t have the emotional or mental energy anymore.

Monotony is the mind killer, and escapism is one hell of a drug. Both put together is a disaster waiting to happen.

I tried to bond with the other hand in my life, the one I usually shied away from because of differing ideas. But I didn’t want to push this hand away. So I forced together two puzzle pieces that have similar edges but aren’t MEANT to be shoved together. And I held them together with silence and passive behaviors. Hoping that this one wouldn’t see past the cracks, past the glue, and see how much these pieces AREN’T supposed to be forced together that way. Because I’d rather have a fucky puzzle than a completely unfinished one. I’d rather have one less person trying to put pieces back.

I made the mistake of saying that I don’t know how to talk to others. He asked me that evening if I didn’t feel like I could talk to him. I lied through my teeth and just said that I don’t really have anything to talk about. Because that’s how the papers work. I crumble them until the words are unintelligible anymore and I don’t know how to speak them outloud. And the papers that aren’t fully crumpled, are still able to be somewhat legible, I refuse to speak the words on them. Because then I would be seen different. If I was even looked at at all anymore at that point.

I continue to make papers and aluminum foil. Because that’s all I know how to do anymore. I don’t know how to show others what’s on that paper. I don’t know how to let others try to put pieces back together the right way. I never liked asking for help in the past, always would rather work by myself than in a group. And so many people flooding to me in some rush to help was just too much. It’s still too much.

A lot of the time I don’t have the mental energy to do much, other than to go through the motions. Because the motions are comfortable. They’re reassuring. They don’t change and cause issues. The motions are dangerous.

They cause me to get TOO caught up in them and keep my mental energy down. I don’t speak to much of anyone now. Probably a trait that’s slowly sunk in from the other puzzle piece. And I hate it.

The reason I don’t reach out to others or get back to others is because I’m still too overwhelmed. I’m still too drawn into the comfort of the monotony and the motions. I still think of them. I still think of you. But I don’t know how to talk anymore. Not full on like I used to. And as more time passes, even if I grow comfortable again, I’m afraid to reach back out. Because too much time has passed. And I know it’ll only get worse if I continue, like a healing wound that I just SCRATCH at instead of putting a bandage over it and moving on with taking care of it. But I can’t stop scratching it. Because I’m afraid of what would happen if I did stop. If I did reach out after so long of silence.

I’m not trying to make excuses. I’m trying to explain what’s going on with my head and why I grow silent sometimes. It’s not because I don’t want anything to do with you. It’s NOTHING like that. Sometimes I’m just took drawn into that dark corner, buried underneath paper and tin foil. I’m hoping to be better one day. I”m hoping that a time will come where I can speak out about how I feel, about what’s going on with me. Hoping that I can openly say what’s on my mind without hiding behind a screen and anonymity.

Until then. I’m sorry.

Please don’t stop trying to reach out. I still think of you and everyone else. But I just don’t have the mental energy to respond most times. Some days are better than others, but the wound of ‘what if’ and shame keeps me away most times.

I don’t know how to describe my mental state or mental scape. Other than it’s fucky, and dark, and wishes me to fall into easy comforts if only for a bit of peace.

#zipp0 screams into the void #storytime with zipp0 #zipp0 confessions #tw: death mention #cancer fucking sucks

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zipp0flare · 4 years

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Anyone here want to read my personal opinion/rant on the Pokémon Charizard later tonight?

I’ve just gotten sudden feelings (first time in a while for that one) that made me just want to... go off about my history with this thing.

#zipp0 screams in to the void #storytime with zipp0 #possibly #Pokémon #Charizard #my history with this thing is a doozy imo #I just REALLY want to rant about this guy #but I also don’t want to clutter feeds up with dumbass opinion info dumps

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zipp0flare · 4 years

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My new third shift co-worker randomly asked me today if I go to church. I plainly told him no, I do not, hoping to leave it at that. When he asked why not (dude, I work third shift, just because you’re happy to follow up hours of work with hours of religion instead of getting that sweet, sweet sleep doesn’t mean everyone is), I had to resist the GIGANTIC urge to reply with, “Because I’m a practicing pagan and anytime I step into a church I get physically ill.”

Like bro, I grew up in a town of less than 2,000 people that had five different churches. FIVE. Do you know how many Apostolic Christians I saw on the daily? One of my boyfriend’s classmates was in an arranged marriage.

Like. I don’t have a huge problem with religion, but certain ones get me hella salty and I don’t appreciate being asked why I don’t follow in with the overly practiced ones.

Also I am not actually pagan, but my sister is and she tried to get me into it years ago. I’m mostly agnostic. That urge to just see his reaction to the idea was almost too much though.

Also I had a very realistic dream where I was being burned at the stake once so that was fun. One of the more widely known ACs in my town also told my mother she should get a prayer group together when I used to get nasty migraines, as if that would actually help.

#zipp0 screams into the void #storytime with zipp0 #like religion is a touchy thing for me #but mostly the catholic/protestant/apostolic/etc.#i got roped into helping with vacation bible school for several years for reasons #never again #i cant handle going through that again #the SONGS

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zipp0flare · 4 years

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Back when I was in, I unno... maybe sixth grade? Seventh grade? Anyway, I was a pre-teen, my school did a weird thing. And when I say they did a ‘weird thing’, I mean my Physical Education class one day showed up with a SHIT TON of cups. We’re not talking regular cups, though. These were COMPETITION cups. These cups had holes in them and you were meant to STACK THEM WITH EXTREME SPEED!

Anyway, they were these things called Speed Stacks (TM) cups, where you try to stack them as quickly as you can in a specific way. And for, like, a week my PE class messed with these cups, challenging ourselves and others in our class to be the best Speed Stackers out there. I. Was. Obsessed.

We were given catalogs for these cups, where you could buy a set of a dozen cups in several colors, you could buy a set of a dozen MINI cups that were a pain in the ass to stack and extremely impractical because they were about a fourth of the size of the normal ones. You could buy bags for your special cups, you could buy mats (both normal and mini sized) and timers. And by golly, you bet I came begging to my parents for some Speed Stacks cups.

Weirdly enough, they actually GOT me some. A normal set of blue cups, and a fancy-ass set of mini ones that CHANGED COLORS in the sunlight. Two mats, one for the normal set and one for the mini set, and a timer as well. I guess they were fascinated by how much I loved these dumb things and were like, “Why not indulge? It’s an interesting hobby.”

Over time I kinda stopped my stacking and moved on with life. A few months back I came across my Speed Stacks stuff and smiled at the nostalgia. Then frowned at how god awful I had become. At least I remembered the general rule of thumb though? But aside from that, after I had my fun, I stored them away once more.

Anyway, I literally just got a visceral memory of this time of my life and just purchased two more sets of cups off their website. Because they came out with fancy new shit. Plus I cackled that they had this dumb, “Anyone else you want to shop for?” and offered my original set I was gonna buy for a 60%+ discount. So I got the less expensive color I had also wanted, added on that discount set, and laughed at the fact that I spent literally the exact same amount of money.

What am I gonna do with 4 dozen stacking cups? I have no idea. Maybe I’ll bring them out during a party and be like, “Who wants to stack cups?’ and have everyone stare at me like I grew another head.

#Zipp0 screams into the void #storytime with Zipp0 #despite adding a bunch of cool stuff to their store though they were a complete disappointment when it came to the mini cups #you could only buy a set that red white and blue cups with four of each color #that was it #no fancy-ass sunlight cups #no other colors #nothin'#they updated their mats and timers tho #almost got me into getting a new mat because they were so fancy-ass #but then I said that I don't need a new mat because my old ones were perfectly fine #should have gotten a new timer though #my old one is basically a paper weight at this point #didn't check but the batteries are most likely corroded....

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