#I WILL NEVER EVER EEVER BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS I

[vellichorsdesire]

hayyyyy imagine your f/o’s hands going under your hair and over your ears, their thumbs rubbing your cheeks while they mouth “look at me” to you to distract you from the thunder

or maybe they bury themselves in your neck to hum a small comforting tune in your ear, their hand covering their other ear so you can only focus on their voice …

WhwhwhqaHSHAGSHAHSHSHD SHSBBWHWWHWHHWHWHWHSHHSDHSBDDHHDDHDHHD UNMMMMMM UJMMMMM UWHWJQHMMM UMMMM. UMMMMMMMMM HWHWHASHSHDHSHHDDGHSGD WHWHAAAAAA OHH MYYY UMMMM UMMMM???,?,?? UMMMMMMMMMMMMM

[leoisalright]

disassociate

I have a very difficult relationship with staying concentrated. Most of the time I find it extreamly difficult to connect to things happening or to properly concentrate and notice whats happening. Sometimes its breacuse im experiencing sensory issues, like Im focusing in too m,uch on a certain sound or ferelng or something I don’t like and I camt tear my concentration off of it and I get worked up. Most of the time tho, I just camt concenytrate. I zone the fuck out even if I know how impoortanint the thing I need to loistening to is. I look at nothing, a random spot on the wall or ahetever and I camt see anythimg else, I just stare at the wall or wherever my eyes feel comfortable gazing. I cant rlly hear anything unless something rather loud pulls me out ogf it. I can onl hear my own head, wether that’s me telling myself to concentrate but not being able to or just absolute abyse of nothing. Im finding it very hard top actually look at the keys right now, I just want to focus on the patch of empty wall above the moniter. Often I want to liosten to a song but have to replay it 3 or 4 times because I keep zoning out in the middle and not noticing until the sonmg is finished and I realise I just missed it again. Everthing also feels spacey. All the time. Most of what I can rememeber anytways. Nothing feels real at all. Nothing. I don’t know how to describe it other tha  it just noyt feeling real. Life, me, the world, people they just feel not real. Me typing thid feelks nopt real. It feels like life is a distraction and theres something else I need to get back to so im not putting my 100% into being alive, because I knmow theres something else I need to get back to that’s more impoertant. I cant re,ember anything either. Like I cant remember my life any ore. I used to have such a good memory, but now? I canyt remember what I was ayear ago tyodaty. I don’t remember taking or being in classes. And what I do remember feels fake. My childhood doesn’t even feel like me. It feels like im watching the momries and just living the childhood through someone else. I don’t know who I am anymore or how to get back to him. Who did i used to be? Where did he go? How do I get in contact with him?? I don’t think ill ever feel like myself eever aagain, and if I do it will take a lot of work and wont feel proper ever again. I feel like a weird imposter, like the shell of a person. I feel empty, theres nothing in my memory. I feel artificial yet I cant be because im so imperfect. I find it dicfficult remembering rthigs that don’t have a photo or something of them or connecting them. I feel like the momories are there I just cant activate them. If I see a picture it helps me awaken that memory a little bit but without the picture, im COMPLETELY lost. I feel like im lost in a foggy forrest and all I know is im ina  forrest and I need to get out. I cant see anything or know where I am, or who I am or what I look like or how I got here. I just need to escape. Itsa like when your reading a book and u read a page but then realse u weren’t paying proper attention and u need to go back and re read it because u took nothing in. that’s what my life feels like except time never stops or goes back so im just missing out on ehatever life is meant to be. What is everyonje e,lse seeing? I had some ;like “childhood trauma” which is why I think I hacve a disassociation disorder. My father is on the spectrum and had anger issues, my mother was an alchocolic and my broither is autistic and was very violent. Hed thrpow things and try to hurt people and try to hurt himself and he got in rouble and was bullied a lot. My dad sometimes pulled us out at night to walk the half hour to the pub my mum worked at just to drag her home because she was just drinking. She’d get drunk a lot and dad thought she was cheating and once we went to some mans house so dad could scream at him. He had sdogs and his kitchen was messy. I don’t know if she cjheated or not. I donmt really care. I feel completely disconnected to evrrything that I am and like and do and who I spaeak to and mt family and I just don’t care about anything because nothing is real so why care it’s a waste of time. I used to fail classes and slack off and hurt myself and be an arsehole and feel suicidal but I didn’t care about any of it because nothing is real. None of these things matter if its all fake. Who cares if I get hurt? Its not reasl. Who cares if I fail? Its not real. Who cares if I never eat? Nothing is real anyways. Or it doesn’t feel it. Whats the point of being alive if u never feel it? Whats the point of sleeping well if Im always exhausted anyways. I wonder what it was like beforew all this happened. Probably absolute bliss. If everyone can actually think normally then I envy them.

[cosmosogler]

i got up on time. i took a shower and went to therapy.

then dad drove over to his mother barbara’s house. the one who killed her dog about a year ago. she was kind of awful? like, random stuff would happen outside while dad was clearly inside doing her chores for her, and she would snap “what did you do!?” and i really reminded me of how dad blames me for stuff that could not possibly be my fault. i mean, she might have been joking, but dad doesn’t, and also she was mean about it and her general demeanor before and after didn’t indicate a joke.

speaking of, when dad was picking me up from therapy, he ended up parked on the other side of a huge truck from the front door. so when i came out and started looking around, i could not see his car no matter how far along the sidewalk i went. when dad pulled out from around the car he acted like i had somehow made some kind of mistake or wasted his time.

with his mom though. the whole apartment reeked of cigarettes and there were boxes of malboros scattered on every surface. it really upset my stomach. dad doesn’t like it either. the poor cat doesn’t ever come out from under the bed. barbara has had about eight cats in her lifetime; they have all been named “kitty.” every single one. the one dawn took from her when she didn’t want him anymore got renamed niko. that’s not a big deal, but it hints at how she feels about animals. interchangeable. just things you keep in the house.

dad and i went to the store to get her stuff. she gave us a bad credit card and dad had to pay with his own cash. then when we got home he got the wrong kind of laundry detergent so we had to go back out. by then i was really sick.

i was looking around her house because i had nothing better to do after i fixed her computer and i found binky’s ashes and a little certificate that read “binky: beloved companion and pet” and i didn’t think it was possible to dislike this woman more than i already did but i managed it. there were little posters and plaques around her house that said things like “toy poodles are the best” and “a house is not complete without the pitter patter of dogs’ feet!” 

it’s been a long time since i felt that much genuine wrath. i hope she looks at those posters every day and knows what she did. 

anyway i ended up in her room while dad talked to her in the back doorway and she smoked outside. i put my head against the filthy wood flooring and looked at the cat. she leaned toward me but didn’t come any closer, so i sat up and listened to the radio. today is apparently conspiracy theory day, “that great tradition of the greatest country that ever was.” “get a load of this guy,” i thought toward the cat. i tried to listen to his theory but he took five minutes to get to the god dang point and by that point i was bored and frustrated. but what he said next knocked my socks off!

he said that on the busiest intersection in washington a homeless community had popped up and that it was ugly and horrible and whatever. and then he said that the homeless were a leftist conspiracy to garner sympathy and to get people to vote for higher taxes.

after that, about 40 minutes late, we picked up asher. we grabbed some lunch on the way home, but nothing tastes good any more so i only ate a little bit. i did have some fries from asher’s pita box. and let the dogs have a nibble. 

it’s so hard to eat. it’s preposterously difficult to put food in my mouth and swallow it. i feel so sick and queasy all the time. i looked up some info on parasites but apparently they show up in ultrasound scans. i think the doctor would have considered that option if maybe anything had come up in my bloodwork or other samples. but everything is horribly normal.

after that we gathered some study materials for asher’s upcoming gre and then when he was satisfied we took wiley and eve out for a walk. i took us on a longer route than normal because it was nice out and i figured eve would enjoy the adventure. i made a mistake though. about halfway through the walk she started limping real bad and couldn’t catch her breath. we stopped at a park in the shade and she wouldn’t put much weight on her bad leg. i felt really bad... i overestimated how well she was doing. i’m gonna let her rest for the next week or so... she wasn’t limping so bad any more when she had sat and rested for a few hours. but i feel stupid for not recognizing that her tumor is in a position to hurt her more now than it used to. 

i started talking to asher’s partner connie a little bit. they stopped responding to my messages after a few minutes though. i was expecting a little more attention i guess, but to be fair i did just kind of flail into their life unannounced. 

i finally got a twenty win streak at the battle tree!!! now i can use mega blastoise again. i almost lost because i misjudged what the ai would do and planned for a long term battle instead of a short full offensive one. maasym, my azelf, fortunately hits a lot harder than i had anticipated. and his snorlax ended up not having anything that could hit my dragonite chusi hard enough to knock it out before she could heal herself.

eating dinner sucked. i had to try twice. i had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich first and i forced all of that down. i felt sick after that so i stopped eating even though i knew i was still hungry. so a few hours later i made myself a quesadilla. 

like... mom keeps telling me to just microwave the frozen vegetables. but last time i tried that it tasted like something had gone sour. sour broccoli.

i want to eat anything like i used to... but lately all i’ve wanted is something warm, which is also healthy, and also doesn’t taste like butts. and we don’t have any of that in the house any more!!! even my yakisoba noodles only filled two of those criteria. and i have an apple left in the fridge, and i used to love the honeycrisp apples, but it’s cold and i can never get myself to pull it out of the fridge and eat it because it’s cold. i had one a few days ago with the noodles and i couldn’t even finish it. they’re not that big...

i barely touched the falafel pita i spent dad’s money on at lunch. nothing tastes good any more! it’s awful!!

i spent the evening chilling in my room to try and get eve to sit still for a few hours. she’s curled up in a nest she made out of my blanket with her paws all stuck out in a little clump together. she’s getting pretty hard of hearing... when she came downstairs and i was a few feet away in the kitchen i called out to her to say hi and she couldn’t figure out where my voice was coming from. she kinda jumped when she finally saw me. like she maybe thought she had heard my voice but wasn’t sure.

i’m glad all three dogs were happy to see asher today. even doge has warmed up to him. she was licking the sort of rash asher had gotten from playing with wiley since he’s allergic to dogs. the same way eve would lick my cat scratches when i came home from the apartment during breaks.

still sore and painful, especially when i bend over to pet the doog. doogles can’t get up very well so she mostly lays down wherever dad or i put her. she is getting better at walking despite her condition at least. i think the medication is helping a little bit. i’m gonna call my doctor tomorrow though, even if the pain goes away in the next few days i’m gonna need to change my prescription. 

diogi, doge, the doog, durgur, and doogles are all the same animal by the way. just like jeeves, jeevies, gv, eve, genevieve, eevers, jeevers, and eef are the same animal. i don’t have any stupid nicknames for wiley so he gets things like buddy, big guy, kiddo, and WILEY NO!!!.