calsgotdepression

[calsgotdepression]

dream nightmare thing from a bit ago

I woke up in my childhood bedroom. My twin-sized bed was surrounded by wooden headboards, nailed and drilled in by someone I’d never get to meet. I was on the bed. Sleeping, on my back. I never sleep on my back. I sat up like a corpse would at a funeral. Joints stiff and aching as I sat up mechanically.

The same carpet was on the floor. Half underneath my bed. It was colorful, but I can’t remember the exact colors it had.

Then, I saw her.

The world had shifted. I felt it, and saw it like a heat wave pass by in front of my eyes. I remembered that story of a headless chicken that survived much longer than any creature without a head should’ve. But this was not gory. It was not bloody or obscene, and it wasn’t violent. But she didn’t have a head.

My cat. My daughter– I felt so strongly in this room that she was my real child, different in the way I think of myself as her “dad” in the real world. I’m not her parent. Obviously, she is a cat, and I am a human. But in this space, in this room, she was my own in a way I’ve never felt before.

She was headless. Where a head should have started from her neck, it stopped. Smoothed out in a similar fashion to amputees with a healed stump or stub for a limb. It was covered in fur, blending in as if cats were creatures just born headless from the start.

The change wasn’t violent. There was no invisible hand that severed her head and removed it. But something shifted in the world. Like a greater being pushed the Earth over a little to grab a pen on the other side of the galaxy. And suddenly, she was headless.

I got down on– or collapsed, I can’t remember– to my knees, immediately stroking her fur as tears poured from my eyes. In whatever new reality this was, she still recognized me. Without a head and without a face. Without eyes or a mouth or whiskers or ears or a nose to sense me with.

She came over to my hand cheerfully, as if nothing had changed. As if things were normal. I couldn’t hear her purr, but her body vibrated and breathed without sound to accompany it. Something had changed in me, too. But I couldn’t place what it was. There was no mirror to look at myself in, and I wasn’t eager to find one.

My hands shook– as they always do– as I held her as gently as I could. She had no brain, and yet…

Blind faith is a saying known by many. Using the term senseless faith would be accurate here, but it implies a metaphor that it was in poor taste to have faith in the first place. I know others can’t look into my brain, just as I can’t with theirs. Just as we could hold hands and our atoms would never touch, we can only know about someone else to the same extent. And usually that’s good enough. Sometimes it’s not. That’s life.

But in that moment, in that place, with her in my arms, I felt the trust she had in me was something I knew like I knew how to breathe mere seconds out of the womb. She had no eyes to see. No ears to hear. No mouth to speak or eat. No nose to smell. No whiskers to feel. No face. No head. And she still chose to trust. To love.

More happened in the dream, but I don’t remember now. I remember my dreams almost every night, but some stick out to me. This was from a few months ago, but I’m just writing it down now. It feels important, but maybe it’s not.

I woke up and I found my cat and laid next to her as she napped. Without any sense beforehand, she opened her eyes to see me in front of her. She started to purr. It felt like maybe there was a peacefulness in life that I hadn’t felt before. It sticks with me now, even throughout all of these times. A sense of peace in knowing that if I was without a head, I would end up lying next to her just enjoying her company. My hand gently stroking her fur as I feel the vibration and expansion and deflation of her breaths and purrs. Knowing that it is enough. Feeling like it is, anyway.

[calsgotdepression]

I think it'd be cool if we lived in a world that wasn't all bad all the time

[calsgotdepression]

haha back to avoiding my reflection again. love this game every time. I wonder what it feels like to like yourself. Your body. to not avoid photographs. to not feel hatred towards it. I wonder if people were happier before mirrors were invented. I wonder if someone thousands of years ago stared at their face in the water and felt the same disdain I do now. I wonder what the life span is for someone like me. Probably not long. I often wonder if after I publish my book people will only read it after I've died. would it even matter to them. does any of this matter at all. no one has answers and i wish i didn't have questions

[calsgotdepression]

every time I feel depressed I look at pictures of my cat like I'm a soldier off at war, fondly missing his wife and children back at home as he stares at the photograph within his pocket

a very normal thing to do

[calsgotdepression]

either all this shit works out or I'm kms o7 we stay on that grind

[calsgotdepression]

my life goal is "try not to kms" and my streak is good so far

[calsgotdepression]

"where do you see yourself in 5 years"

dawg I barely see myself two days from now. I don't know. hopefully still alive. next question

[calsgotdepression]

unfortunately a little funny that coming out to my parents was 10x easier than disappointing them. like we don't care who you are but also we expected more from you

[calsgotdepression]

every single time I'm asked, "So, what're your plans for the future?"

I *know* what to say, but I can't say that just, y'know. casually in conversation.

my future plans are staying alive. what more do you want from me

I need a sign that tells people to not have any expectations from me. I set the standard too high by getting average grades in high school. Should've failed more.

[calsgotdepression]

I'm kinda sick of being at the prime age of people wondering what I want to do with my future and it's just easier to lie. I'm not saying I'm unchangeable or correct or anywhere near perfect, but I hate that sometimes it's the world that needs to change instead. I don't want to die, but I don't see a future for myself. So many things are based on luck, and it's frustrating. I just feel like all I'll ever end up being is a sad memory to my loved ones. Just another statistic. And for what?

I cry less than I used to, but my hope is near empty. I'm tired of being told to have a thicker skin when the world is cruel. I'm tired of my body. I'm tired.

[calsgotdepression]

the term "casually suicidal" is truly one that fits me to a T

like I don't want to die. but also if one more thing happens. yeah

[calsgotdepression]

hope someone will enjoy this teto I drew a few weeks back in the middle of the night

[calsgotdepression]

more bad things keep happening and at this point it's like. I talk to people as if I'm not constantly centimeters away from bashing my head repeatedly into the wall

[calsgotdepression]

chronic pain thoughts for today:

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[calsgotdepression]

found a canvas of self portraits I did while on pain meds w/ my mouse. body dysmorphia bues

[calsgotdepression]

It's funny, my chosen name was almost Atlas. With the way my spine is breaking down, it sure does feel like that would've been appropriate around now.

[calsgotdepression]

I'm terrified that words are all I have and one day they won't be enough anymore.