just-sad-stuff - Tumblr blog

[just-sad-stuff]

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me

[just-sad-stuff]

You know shits fucked when I’m active again!! Anyways,

I’ve spent my whole life feeling like everyone is mad at me for having emotions.

Maybe it’s the undiagnosed autism, or my moon in Scorpio. But I have had the pain of feeling like everyone is always mad at me for my emotions my whole life.

When things are peaceful, people tell me my sensitivity is my best trait. But then it’s those same people who turn around and yell at me for being “too sensitive” when they’re mad at me, hence why I feel like everyone is always mad at me for being emotional!

I’ve been in therapy since I was 8 years old, I spent basically my entire high school career in and out of PHPs (partial hospitalization programs) and therapeutic day schools. Some could easily argue I’m over therapized at this point, and I’d probably agree.

But given my history and experience, I feel so well equipped to handle situations where I have to express my emotions in a proper manner. But it always leaves me crying and screaming “I don’t understand!!”. Because I will sit there, explain what I’m trying to say, and apologize when it’s not my fault and I was the one who was hurt, and I’ll communicate how I still care and want to resolve things; and then people just look me straight in the face as I’m sobbing about how terrible I feel and tell me how horrible I am and how disrespectful and inconsiderate I am.

I shouldn’t say “people” do this to me, it’s my family. I’d like to think once I’ve moved out and made real world lasting relationships I won’t be treated like this but teehee also due to the state of the world (I live in America… kms) I fear I’ll never be able to get out of the emotional hellscape that is my home.

Back to being an astrology bitch, my sun in Libra wants nothing but peace and hates conflict/confrontation. I let the little things go to keep the peace, but when I let someone in my family know that what they’ve said upsets me?? They shut me out, literally. My mother has shoved me out of her room and slammed doors in my face as I’m sobbing hysterically more times than I can count.

My grandmother yells at me for hurting her feelings by my reaction to the nasty things she says to me. My reaction by the way is to remove myself from the conversation, go to my room, take some time to collect my thoughts, and then go to her later and try to resolve what happened earlier.

It’s like, okay, cool. So if I tell mom something she said hurt my feelings she won’t want to deal with my emotions like always and I’ll cry and cry and cry to her hoping she’ll show me one ounce of love or something. And if I tell my grandma something she said hurt my feelings she will throw it back on me for hurting her feelings with my reaction to the nasty things she said to me. With my mom the end usually goes like her getting so mad I get scared and she physically throws me out of her room and slams the door in my face, and with my grandma she will continue to berate me and tell me how terrible I make her feel with my emotions, screaming so in my face as I’m sobbing, until I can’t take it anymore and I leave her alone.

I really am one of those people that just wants everyone to be happy and kind to one another. Why can’t everything be puppies, kittens, and rainbows after all? Why does everyone have to be so mean? Why can’t I understand? Why are people even nastier to me when I’m already upset or having a bad day?

Inside me there is a little undiagnosed autistic girl who can’t understand why everyone is so mean to her. Right now she’s clawing to be let out, I feel her in my throat, with my voice hoarse from screaming “I don’t understand!”. I can feel her behind my eyes, watching the same mistreatment she received at a very young age happen again and again from those who are supposed to be the kindest to me and show me the most love, her emotions overflowing through my eyes constantly.

“You’re so strong” people tell me, but am I really that strong? Or do you just not pay attention when I am weak?

In the end, I feel like everyone who knows me is sick of my emotions on some level. If it’s any consolation to those people, I am too. I don’t think anyone ever even thought of that, that I could be tired of feeling this way. Because no one has ever tried to help, they just push me onto a professional and away from them. But something I find comes with being over therapized is that I don’t need to talk to a professional, I already do that weekly. I need my friends and family to be there for me, just someone to listen who isn’t being paid to do so.

It feels like I always have so much to say but no one in my life wants to listen to it, even my very best friend has stopped opening my snaps and doesn’t text me unless I text her first. I always feel like I am too much for everyone. I feel like I’m always bending over backwards for everyone else because I wish someone would do that for me but no one ever does!! Why doesn’t anyone care about me like I care about them?

Why is everyone so mean?

[just-sad-stuff]

Again.

How can this be happening again? At first I was waiting around for it, and then, for just a moment, I thought everything was going to be alright. How stupid I was.

It feels like I had less than a month of peace. Two or three weeks at most where I finally felt on track with a real career and content with my job without worrying about my past repeating itself.

The first decent company I worked for, the first truly most kind and amazing boss I’ve ever had, it’s all slipping through my fingers so fast.

It feels like it’s all my fault too, ironically because I listened to my boss. Why did I listen? Why was I even looking? Even if it’s not my fault, I am always going to feel like the cause of 14 years of someone’s life wasted. Because I listened. Because I was nosy.

It all feels so much worse this time somehow. I’m barely able to eat or sleep, bad thoughts that I haven’t had for years ring in my ears daily now. I’ve thought about checking myself in on multiple occasions, I need the time to fully process this instead of being on the clock working through it. Most importantly, I’m scared to admit this but I think I need the professional help.

I don’t think anyone else understands how hard this is for me either, and I also don’t think anyone would think I’m justified in being the person involved in the situation most distraught by this because it seems I’m not even the one who is going to lose my job.

But it hurts so much. No matter the outcome, even in the best possible scenario, the damage is irrevocable. My boss won’t stay much longer even if she’s not fired. I will continue to be scared of everything I do at work, wondering if I’m being watched and worrying that my actions are being viewed as deceitful.

I can’t go through this again. I can’t lose another job I love dearly. Not a job like this. This job was going to be my career. Getting hired was the first step in setting me up for something to do with my life that I actually enjoy doing.

It’s no secret I didn’t think I’d make it to 18, and it should come as no surprise now that I’m 20 with still little to no will to live so obviously it’s hard for me to try to find something I wanted to do with my life now that I’m somewhat starting to accept that I will be here longer than I thought.

So when I get a job I really really like, I grow an attachment, I grow fond of the place, the company, the people, the message. G-d knows my family life sucks so it’s also no surprise I find community in my places of employment.

When I lost my first long term job I really loved I was absolutely devastated, but as time passed looking back I realized it opened better opportunities for me. But it took me months to get over what happened to me. So many sleepless nights spent wondering what I could’ve done differently, what I should’ve said, who I should’ve been stricter with. I was haunted.

Then, just my luck. As soon as the ghost of Spencer’s past faded away, the soul of Macy’s present took everything from me. They’re making it a cycle. It is happening again.

Do I have some kind of job curse? I am cursed to have bad luck with any job I love? I find community and friendship in my places of employment, aka things that prevent my will to live from completely withering away. So it really feels like some sick joke from the universe that this is happening again.

I don’t know how to cope with this. If I give up the dreams this job gave me, I’m afraid I won’t have anything left to keep going for. I want to keep going. Why did things have to change? Why did I have to listen? Why is this happening again?

(4/16/23)

(P.S) tumblr text looks black so I changed it to red so I can see it… does it look weird to anyone else? Tumblr is being stupid and mean to me too I guess!!

[just-sad-stuff]

Selfish or Organized?

Who the hell knows, I feel shitty is the point. I’m about to turn 20 on Sunday, and I’ve just spent the last hour meticulously planning the day out; everything I’ll pay for myself.

Some people don’t care for their birthdays, but for some reason I do. Call me conceited but I like people paying for me and giving me attention on my birthday, it helps me feel special.

But that special feeling goes away and is replaced with a very icky feeling when I’m the one planning my whole birthday and paying for myself instead of being treated.

I want someone to plan my birthday for me. In truth, my dream has always been to have a surprise birthday party. But it seems as far back as I’ve been able to, I’ve always planned my own day. My stupid chemically imbalanced brain tells me no one cares about me enough to plan even a day for me.

Maybe I just want to be taken care of, because I feel like I never was as a child.

[just-sad-stuff]

I have a very ‘nothing matters’ mindset for a person who’s perpetually anxious

[just-sad-stuff]

change

I’m so scared by change that I get sad, angry, and upset at the thought of it. I scream when having to speak of it and end up storming off because I just can’t handle it. Change is so overstimulating and it drives me crazy.

I am so scared by change that whenever faced with even the possibility of change, especially a change I don’t like, I immediately revert back into my old habits and comforts I’ve been stuck in for years.

Sure life changes every day, that’s the scary part. I can’t stand how fast life changes and how little control I have over it. I suppose there is change I’m comfortable with, or change I’m in support of. But it’s change I don’t like or can’t see the end result of that upsets me so much.

Taking a job at the other end of the country for five months with friends I’ve barely known for a year is a huge change, but one I’m apart of and excited to make.

On the other hand the idea of getting my drivers license is so fucking terrifying and out of my control, I just can’t stand it. I know getting a license will irrevocably change my future in ways I can’t control.

Yes it’s the normal adult thing to do, hell most normal people my age already have their license’s. Those normal people probably don’t think about how having their drivers license is going to affect them for literally the rest of their lives.

You’ll always want or need a working car, new jobs will want your driver’s license number as a form of identification, it’s another thing to maintain and keep clean, it’s another huge responsibility that you aren’t even in control of!

Hell you can be doing everything right on the road and have a clean driving record for years and some fuck up living it up while drunk driving can ruin everything for you.

So many people are getting a license as a normal, independent person thing to do. Am I the only one who thinks ahead here? Why is this so normalized?

Fuck if there’s one thing I’ve always said it’s that I don’t want to be normal.

The point of this was that I don’t think there’s one thing that scares me more than driving and getting my license, and no one seems to really understand or care.

My family wants me to get my license so that they’ll stop having to drive me places, my friends want me to get my license so that I can come hang out more often, any romantic interests want me to have a license so they’re not wasting gas on me, and so on and so forth.

No one gets why this is so scary for me, I don’t even get why this is so scary for me! All I do know is that I hate this. I hate how whenever I bring up wanting to get my license everyone perks up and their eyes sparkle, and then they’ll nag me about it for weeks hoping I’ll finally make the move to get my license.

I feel like if I got my license I’d be getting it for everyone else, not myself.

Regarding how scary it is to get my license, I don’t know if it’s so scary because of my trauma with learning to drive or because of the pressure I feel I’ve faced from everyone to get my license for years.

I mean I can’t remember one good driving experience with my mom, it was always her holding onto the handle bar on the upper side of the passenger seat for dear life, criticizing the way I held the steering wheel, or being a spilt second ahead of my ADHD and screaming at me to notice something I was about to notice anyways. The way she valued her car’s physical condition more than my mental condition after every drive, the way she makes jokes and jabs like it’s so funny that I haven’t met this average milestone, and the way I know even if I do get my license I’ll barely be driving her car and she’ll just find a new thing to nag me about— getting my own car.

Don’t even get me started on the school mandated drivers ed class I took my freshman year. First of all it was my freshman year of high school and that was one of the lowest points in my life so far, then taking a drivers ed class taught by greasy middle aged republicans on top of it? God I remember the teacher opening the class with “We’ve never, ever, had to fail anyone from this class. It’s practically impossible to fail.” and then going out driving with one of the instructors who had me drive to a McDonald’s, park, while she left to car to smoke and grab something to eat and talk on the phone. The radio blasting the whole time wasn’t even the worst part, but when I told on her for the poor teaching conditions suddenly every driving instructor there thought I was the worst driver to ever grace this earth and I was almost the first person ever to fail that drivers ed class.

There’s so much fucking trauma from my goddamn childhood, and therefore so many things I don’t do because of said trauma. But most of the things I avoid, are easy to avoid and allow me to still lead a normal life. Not talking about my real emotions and deepest fears with my friends or anyone else because someone once left me over being too emotional and I grew up with a mom who essentially taught me that being sensitive is my worst quality? Easy. Has it had a negative impact on my mental health, sure! But which one of my habits hasn’t?

However my fear of driving and getting my license because of so many negative experiences with driving earlier on has resulted in this giant fear of change because I know how much getting a drivers license will effect me had just influenced my life so much and no one gets it.

I could send this whole little venting note to someone and nothing would get better, things would probably just get worse because then I’m showing my true emotions to someone and that never ends well.

I show this to mom and she’ll completely miss the point and get all pissy about my negative experiences with driving because of her and scream at me that it’s not her fault. I show this to *name 1* or *name 2* and they’ll have no idea what to do, the one time I tried having real emotion with *name 1* she just stopped replying to me until the morning because she obviously doesn’t face emotion. It’s a damn good thing I didn’t off myself that night or she would’ve been the cause of it. *name 2* is just so emotionless and uncaring with me I’m sure just say “Oh well just take it step by step.” or something because it seems she refuses to get close to me.

God I fucking hate this, eventually this is just going to be something I have to do. It’s so stupid that cars and driving are so normalized that I’m going to either have to get my license or shovel so much money out on Ubers and public transportation.

No one understands, change is scary, and I blame mercury retrograde.

—Les

(9/9/22)

[just-sad-stuff]

I don’t know what g-d intended for when he made me but it sure as hell wasn’t this

[just-sad-stuff]

Where I am, and where I want to be.

You know, I don’t think anyone is ever truly where they want to be in life. There’s always something they’d change. A certain circumstance or person to omit out of their life, always something that could be different and therefore be more ideal to your own individual.

More so, I think where someone wants to be is changing just as fast. In a matter of hours someone can go from wanting a life where they’re always on the move with a type A kind of person and then they’ll see something or witness and event and suddenly they’ll want to settle down and live out their life with someone strictly type B. (Or, you know, maybe that’s my undiagnosed bipolar disorder/BPD talking). We’re constantly influenced by what we see and go through every day, our dreams shifting more and now by the second as we further understand what we want and what makes us happy.

But then we remember where we actually are in life.

Usually some dead-end job or doing poorly in school. Sometimes, actually more often than not, both.

If you go to an elementary school as ask a room full of first graders what they want to be when they grow up you’ll hear a beautiful array of answers.

“Actor!” “Firefighter!” “Veterinarian!”

More so these young kids have such deep questions that you never hear in your everyday world. But if you skip a few grades and visit a class of, say, high school Juniors; that classic “what do you want to be when you grow up?” has a very different set of answers.

“Well, when I was younger I thought I wanted to be an actor but my parents and peers always told me it was almost impossible to make it in Hollywood so now I’m hoping to do makeup for a living and maybe one day do makeup for the celebrities I used to want to be like.”

“I certainly don’t want to be a firefighter anymore, last year my classmates best friend killed himself because his dad died trying to save a family from a burning building. He couldn’t take the pain. As long as I get a good education I should be able to to live a good life no matter what I decide to do.”

“When I was little I wanted to become a veterinarian because I loved animals so much. I still do but there’s no way I could afford so many years of schooling and the cost of opening my own practice afterwards. I’ll be lucky if I can find the time to volunteer for a local animal shelter down the line when I’m probably stuck as a stay-at-home mom or a boring desk job.”

School and society are killing our kids hopes and dreams. Do you think my examples sounds over dramatic? Well they’re not. The first one is about me. I always wanted to be an actor when I was younger. Dreamed of it, really. But my mom never wanted to put in the work. By the time I was 11 she thought I was old enough start scheduling auditions myself if I wanted it that bad. But I had undiagnosed anxiety at the time and was much too scared to even call and ask when auditions were. Whenever I told my teachers I wanted to act they reminded me that in he real world it’s nearly impossible to become a household name in media. I should pick a new aspiration. I still tried out for so many school plays knowing my worth and potential only to be cast in the ensemble. Which I refused to take part in. Now I’m doing a cosmetology class at a vocational school while I’m still in high school as well. During a global pandemic no less. But my teachers and parents are disappointed in me now that I’m not doing well during the end of the year? Fuck you.

Seems I’ve rambled on a bit. But my other examples are true too. I had a classmate my freshman year of high school who’s best friend killed himself because his dad died tried to save a family from a horrible house fire. Killed his surviving best friends spirit and definitely took away the drive to want to become a firefighter. Now he’s still aimlessly on the track to nowhere unsure what he wants to do with his life after experiencing such a trauma. He’s on his way to go to an average school, majoring in business, about to lead an average life. Everyone in his circle is scolding him for it no less, saying he has so much more potential.

The last one is about a close friend of mine from middle school. She grew up on a farm in my small town and I always thought she was so cool living in a ranch style house as she raised chickens, geese, raccoons, squirrels, so many dogs, cats, and what I found to be a scary array of reptiles and insects. She always wanted to be a veterinarian. Sometimes acted as one for her own pets when the actual vet wasn’t open. It wasn’t even the death of the animals that bothered her, hell she did taxidermy and cooked the chickens after they died. It was the money. Her dad made money from job to job fixing fire places for a living and I can’t remember what in gods name her mom did. All I do remember is her never having that much money. She was never able to come out with my friends and I a lot in middle school because she didn’t have the funds for it. So as much as she wants to be a veterinarian she knows she’s never recover from the inconceivable amount of debt she’d have to go into and almost a decades worth of education just to live out her dreams. Now she jokes that she’ll ended up with an older man and just live off his money once he dies and leaves all his assets to her.

See? Where we all are in life is fucked up and boring. But it’s where we want to be that seemingly keeps us going. The made up idea that one day we can live up to the dreams we had as children.

Fuck this.

—Les

[just-sad-stuff]

“It’ll be over before you know it, I promise.”

That’s exactly what my teacher said to my cosmetology class today on our first say back from spring break. She was talking about the 4th and final quarter of the year. Most of my teachers today said similar things.

But the thing is, I don’t believe them at all.

Since August I’ve been slowly watching my senior year slip away helplessly, each month more painful than the last.

I’ll never get a prom, a real graduation, or even a going-away party. The last of my high school experience is slipping away in such a painfully slow manner I can’t stand to watch it anymore. I’d love for this last quarter to go by faster than the speed of light but I doubt it will happen. If anything, this will be the slowest and most painful quarter yet.

(03/29/2021)

—Les

[just-sad-stuff]

Haunted

I’m haunted by the past versions of myself I see every day. Whether they be through digital memories or physical places, I see the broken shell of a person I used to be everywhere.

So many places I may never see again that hold so many painfully memories I try extensively to erase from my head, other places I have to revisit against my will.

Today I had to visit my old high school, and even though I was inside for no more than five minutes; it was still incredibly painful.

Walking down the cold empty hallways with the unchanging murals and dusty banners I swear I could see several versions of my past self, all of them crying.

I saw one with my shaved hair on the sides of my head and long layers on the top with my glasses falling down my tear stained face. I was wearing my favorite blue hoodie, the cuffs were covered with tears and snot; nothing new. Walking down the hall silently, cursing herself for leaving early again.

Another memory of myself I saw was when I wore a thrifted white sweater and hand-me-down jeans that were a size too big. I was going home after staying late to meet some therapy dogs. Walking through the empty halls to my moms car because I would refuse to ever take the bus, one of the owners of the therapy dog was also on her way home. I remember the dog coming up and sniffing me, and then sitting at my feet. The handler just looked at me with a sad and shocked face, I smiled back bitterly as I tried not to break down. We both knew why the dog stopped at my feet, I reached down to pet the dog before walking off and thanking her. Knowing if I stayed any longer I’d break down crying again.

Then we had to walk by that dreaded conference room, which was now specifically labeled for kids that needed meetings like me. I got an instant flashback to my first meeting there, when I sobbed so loudly I was sure the classes in the next hall over could hear. They told me this school wasn’t the right fit for me, they wanted me to leave. Looking back on the memories my face has never been so swollen and puffy, my eyes never so red and burning from the tears.

Lastly we had to go to the place where it always started, the nurses office. If I ever wanted a ticket home, I had to get through there. Even worse the same nurse that used to have to call and send me home each time I went down was there, she had to conduct my test no less. I feared she’d recognize me, and god forbid she say something I would’ve broken down in tears.

There I felt like I could see every bed filled with my body that carried me through those 7 horrible months at that school. Each more empty and broken than the last.

The longer I stayed in the building the more past versions of myself I started to see. Some repeating themselves as I walked faster to get out of there. I swear I started to hear my own sobs in my head and cries for help from my past selves. It’s almost like a part of me is eternally trapped there in my own personal hell.

And then I left. I walked out those doors and immediately felt more at peace. I got in the car and said how horrible it was in there, but with no real reason behind why I hated it so much for those short 5 minutes I was inside; it didn’t matter. Without a reason my pain in invalid.

I wish I could go back and visit myself in freshman year and tell her everything was going to be alright... but I’m a senior now getting ready to graduate this June and truthfully my entire high school career has been nothing short of empty pain. No drinking, no parties, no drugs. No real boyfriends or girlfriends, no crazy stupid decisions, not one normal high school experience for me.

Every year I look back on who I was one year ago and cringe. I am constantly haunted by the person I am, no matter it be six months or six years ago. I will always be haunted by myself.

(3/12/21)

—Les

[just-sad-stuff]

I want to fall in love at a laundry mat

I don’t even know why I’m crying right now, I seriously don’t have anything to be upset over. Maybe it’s the broken pipes in the shower, or the busted washing machine that forces my family to go to the laundry mat twice a week, maybe even the fact that I’ll never see my stimulus check money from my mom; and if I do she’ll make me feel so guilty about taking it.

I know I have rejection sensitive dysphoria, but that thought that only meant I’d get upset if someone said no to me with a certain tone. Not that I offer to do something for a friend and when she does it first I break some crying and shut her out even through she’s my favorite person in the world and I shouldn’t shut her out because she’s going through a really rough time right now too.

Fuck I’m so selfish and stupid sometimes I hate myself. Why doesn’t anyone ever chase after me though? Especially when I’m obviously sad or upset? Everyone always tells me I’m loved and I’m wanted but no one ever bothers to say another word to me after I’ve said goodnight or goodbye to them.

Everyone is just waiting for me to leave so they can get rid of me. I’m so fucking horrible.

(3/10/21)

—Les

[just-sad-stuff]

I’m here, but I’m not.

Why do I feel so empty? So out of place? Where am I supposed to be if not here? What wrong steps did I take along my path that led me here? I want to get out, this feels all wrong.

It’s like my timeline was pulled from me and now I’m living this alternative universe I was never meant to experience, but I’m still cursed with the knowledge that here is not where I’m supposed to be.

Take me home, take me home.

But what even is home? It’s sure as hell not here, not this hate filled landscape.

Is it camp? Is it this cluttered room that suffocates me? What if my home isn’t a place, but a rather a person? What if I haven’t even met that person yet? Or what if I have and being with them is impossible at the moment?

I don’t know how much longer I can “keep doing the things that make me happy” because deep down I know those things annoy every one else. When I’m happy I’m vocal. I jump, I shout, I scream, I run around, and I tell others. But it always seems like a burden because the way I express happiness is too much for others to bare.

96 days. That’s how long until I think I’ll be happy again, like, truly unapologetically happy. There I feel like I can be myself without boundaries. There I feel I at home. There is where I thrive. That place, is home.

That place, is away from my family.

Away from my family, is my happy place.

My happy place, is home.

So I guess I’m saying, home can be many places to me. Camp, work, even school before we all went virtual and I was stuck with my toxic family 24/7. I do hate them, but no one ever truly believes me when I say that. It’s always: “no, you’re just mad at them right now” or “but they love you” and “it’s just because they care”. Everyone always thinks hating someone you’re related to either doesn’t exist or won’t last. “But she’s your mom, she raised you, put a roof over your head.” Or “he’s still your dad even if he wasn’t there to raise you, it’s not his fault he wasn’t ready to have kids yet.” No. Fuck that.

All my family has ever brought me was trauma, fake love, and empty apologies. Maybe when I move out and I’m finally on my own things will be better with them. Being away from them 90% of the time could make my relationship with them 1,000 times better. Or, on the other hand... things could be much worse. My family scolds me any time I mention leaving when I’m older because “who will be there to support me when I grow old?”. Well guess what, you weren’t even there to support me when I was growing up, so I don’t want or feel the need to help you when you grow old. All I want is to get out of live a 75% satisfying life. I know I’m not going to have all of what I want in life.

Chances are I’ll probably never have my career blow up like I hope, I’ll most likely have an average suburban house with a middle class car, I’ll meet someone I fall in love with just enough to spend the rest of my life with them... but I’ll always compare them to him. But truthfully, any future that doesn’t involve my family will be good enough for me.

Maybe that’s the timeline I feel I’m missing. Maybe that’s why I feel so out of place. My family is not who I supposed to be with, I am almost positive I will be so much better when I am gone. Not dead, just away from them.

One day I’ll be alright, I may be dead, or away from my family, but one day... I will be okay.

(03/03/2021)

—Les

[just-sad-stuff]

Messy

I swear the room I sit in is getting smaller. The empty walls that still lack my own personality mock me. The room cluttered to the point that I can’t even see the floor disgusts me, and yet I still can’t find a drop of motivation within myself to clean it. The smell in here hurts my nostrils and yet I do nothing about it. Open pill bottles, empty candy bags, mounds of dirty laundry... is this who I am now? I thought bed rooms defined a person. Showed who they really are based on how they choose to decorate the space they spend most their time in.

But that is not what my room is.

I talked about re-doing my room for at least three years it feels like. My main focus was to paint my walls. But I also wanted to cover my ceiling in pictures, spray paint all my furniture white to match an aesthetic, and cover my wall with beautiful lights. But now I am stuck with some near broken LED lights, absolutely empty walls, and mis-matched furniture all around me. Sometimes I wonder if deep down I’m afraid to finish my room simply because I started it with my best friend over the summer, and finishing it would truly signify the end of our week together.

Let me make one thing clear though:

I do not like my empty walls.

I do not like my cluttered floors

I do not like my mis-match furniture

I do not like the icky smell

I do not like how much I miss her

I do not like this lack of motivation and the excessive depression keeping me from finishing what I wanted so badly.

I just want to be free.

—Les

(2/1/21)

[just-sad-stuff]

“why do you sleep so much” bro i hate it here

[just-sad-stuff]

Run Away

I want to get away so bad, from my house, from my mom, from this life.

I want to run away from my house because my whole life it’s caused me nothing but pain.

I want to run away from my mom so she will finally know what it’s like to really not know where I am, who I’m with, if I’m safe or not. Because the thing is, I know she doesn’t really care about any of that. I could be passed out in a ditch in the worst part of town and she’d be mad because she couldn’t control what I was doing or who I was with.

I want to get away from my own life because I don’t even remember what I’ve done with it. I don’t remember having any kind of childhood, all of my memories are blocked out because it’s just constant trauma. I barley even remember the years that were good because the bad seeps into everything and when that happens I don’t want to remember the event at all.

I’m so fucking empty and tired, I don’t even know who to trust anymore.

I’m gone.

(12/06/2020)

—Les

[just-sad-stuff]

But the days are so long and the nights are so short, and the nights are when I heal from the trauma the day has brought.

So since the days are longer than the nights, I cannot heal from all the trauma the day has brought on. Therefore, I have leftovers.

But the leftovers just keep piling on.

And soon enough the hours I sleep shorten as the stress the trauma has caused me increases.

Until I break, I collapse in on myself. All at once, every looses it’s meaning.

I no longer care to wake up and go to school, I no longer bother to put on makeup and wear a happy face at work, I no longer talk to any of my friends every day.

I wake up very late in the day, get yelled at for waking up as late as I did. I eat, and I go back to my room, cry, and go back to sleep.

And even if now I’m sleeping more than when I was feeling okay before the pain began to build, the trauma builds even higher than before. Each day is more painful than the last.

I’m just so tired, let me rest so the pain will go away.

(12/05/2020)

—Les

[just-sad-stuff]

I’m sorry I’m taking longer than you hoped to heal from the trauma you caused me