naokosona

[naokosona]

It's been a while. I decided to only post when I felt particularly bad. I am proud of myself, as it has been 23 days since my last post.

For a couple of years now, I have suspected that I have CPTSD. Many people I've met throughout the years (friends who have it, counselors, etc) all say that I should get diagnosed.

But I refused.

I have so many things wrong with me, that adding ANYTHING else to the ever growing cocktail of symptoms, diagnoses, and medication that I have managed to acquire in the past couple of years is reminiscent of a pokemon trainer trying to "catch 'em all".

Earlier today, I would have to say I experienced an "emotional flashback." Something a lot of sufferers afflicted with (c)PTSD face quite often.

I had no discernable, specific reason as to why it happened. Just tiny little reasons accumulated throughout the day that culminated into an explosive thing later on.

The flashback started while I was driving.

My car is my sacred place. I spend countless hours driving, of course. But every mile added on to the odometer is another mile filled with many memories and experiences. I spent many countless hours eating food in, laughing with friends in, sleeping in, listening to music in: my car.

Unfortunately, I have also cried in my car.

Today was another incident of that happening.

I barely got sleep last night, and I spent the whole day running errands for my internship. I felt like a lap dog, even though that is solely the purpose of my job. I also had to drive an hour just to run an errand for my mom as well. I was sweaty and hot from the heat, and frankly, very frustrated.

As I was finally driving home after a long day, I randomly thought about my life.

I thought about how I ended up in this situation: what led me to working as an intern, what led me to move to Massachusetts, what led me to finish my degree in another college, 18 year old me never expected to attend. (I will go more into detail in a future post.)

I also thought about my past. I had a messy, irrational pattern of thoughts loosely strung together: I wouldn't have to be in this position, sweating my ass off, struggling my way through school, if my parents didn't mistreat me when I was a child.

It made no sense.

I also thought about my love life and how I finally found someone who was healthy for me. But my mind self-sabatoges and tells myself that "it wouldn't last." That if they saw this side of me, that they would hate me too. Even though I know that isn't the truth.

I screamed in my car. I played sad music in my car. I cried in my car. All while I was driving the 30-minute car ride back to my apartment.

The moment I got home, I changed, wiped myself off, and ate a sad bowl of totinos. I then took a nap.

I just woke up as of me writing this. I woke up fine. In my dreams, I was mad and frustrated. My emotions couldn't escape me, even in my sleep.

But once again, I woke up fine.

I cried, screamed, yelled, and sobbed earlier today.

But I woke up fine.

I could've self-harmed today, but I chose to take a nap instead. And I woke up fine.

Reflective Thoughts:

There was a quote I saw from a TikTok a couple of days ago. I know, very "Gen Z" of me. But in this circumstance, I was reminded of it.

And suddenly, it was July, and I don't remember what I cried about in February.

I woke up fine.

[naokosona]

Introductory Post.

I realized that it would be courteous to tell you a little about myself. Hope this doesn't seem parasocial.

• I DO NOT tolerate glorifying/romanticising mental illness. If anything, the point of this page is to negate that.

• You can call me "Nao" (pronounced 'now').

• I am 22 years old.

• She/Her.

• I am a WOC. More specifically, Nigerian and Filipina. I'm half black and asian.

• I am also bi.

• I have Bipolar II Disorder, Autism, and CPTSD.

(I just realized how many diversity "checkboxes" I am lol)

• I am a college student. I major in biology with a premed track. I hope to become a doctor someday :) I'll update you!

• On the one-off occasion I go into huge detail, I will use a "tw." If you feel as though another post of mine requires one, let me know. I want to make sure everyone is comfortable.

• I am in that stage in life where I am finally recovering. I'm healing from my past trauma and working on getting healthier coping skills. Hope I serve as an inspiration.

[naokosona]

First, I wanted to share the post that prompted my friend to tell me to get a "diary":

Currently in that "having sympathy for your mother" phase and I don't know how to think about it.

Now that my frontal lobe is more developed (aka me getting older lmao) I can see the nuance in my mother's past actions.

I mean, what she did still sucks but I can understand what led her to do that (generational trauma) not that that is a good excuse but it explains shit.

In short, I feel like I act like her sometimes, and it's something I'm trying to work on. I didn't realize it until people started calling me "guarded" or "mysterious" (I know that's a corny term now, but you know what I mean) , and having trust issues, and a short temper that I can understand why my mom is the way that she is.

Kinda like that ending scene in Baby Reindeer. Where Donny realizes what led Martha down that path.

Second Slide (which I think is foreshadowing):

In short, I don't know the mix between oversharing too much and sharing too little. I don't know what I'm doing.

Reflective Thoughts (not from my CF story):

• I hope my idea to start this blog actually sticks for once. If so, it means that I'll finally be able to have a healthy coping mechanism.

• So my cf story on IG has all of my inner circle in it. I moved around a lot growing up, so Instagram is the only way I've been able to keep in contact with all of my friends. How should I proceed? Should I only tell a few select people about my Tumblr? Or remain completely anonymous?

• Currently experiencing embarrassment from my friend saying that to me. She's also my roommate. It is what it is. She's valid, though.

[naokosona]

I decided to make an online diary after I made a post on my close friends story. Very "chronically online" of me, I guess. A close friend slid up and said that I needed to "get a diary and stop trauma dumping." It was funny to me because at this point in time, my private story was only filled with people I trusted. So my friend saying that kinda made me feel bad.

But my friend's comment made me reassess the culture of oversharing every thought, experience, and idea we have to people on the internet. Regardless if they are your "close friends" or not.

I have tried journaling multiple times. On paper, on Google Docs, etc, to no avail. Many wasted and half empty notebooks. But my thoughts and ideas only came to me when I had the comfort of my phone in my hand, with the idea that other people could look into my innermost thoughts. Yes, this is a roundabout way of saying that I like the attention.

But it's also a more roundabout way of wanting to build a sense of community. When I post, I have my friends tell me that they find comfort in my stories. Hence repeating the cycle of oversharing.

So I thought about it. How can I effectively journal my thoughts for others to see while also staying anonymous? So I decided on Tumblr. It's healthy for all parties involved. Whoever wants to read my blog is free to do so, and vice versa.

I haven't used Tumblr since middle school. If you had told me even a week ago that I would reopen my Tumblr account- the "dead p0rn app" I would've scoffed in your face.

But alas, here I am.

Without further ado, welcome to my page.