#because some people like to miss the point — I’m obviously not talking about vocaloid or anything official in which a voice provider was

[rinnelovebot]

me: AI art bad

internet: 👍🥇🎊

me: AI covers also bad

internet: 🤬😒🔪

[hey-snufkin]

I finally get to spill my feelings under a read more because I’m not on my phone right now.

Unless you’re on mobile and then you just get this massive bitch baby text block sorry

Honestly, these past two months have got me feeling absolutely hopeless when it comes to just trying to find the will to properly exist right now. Like sure, I get up and sit and act like I feel absolutely fantastic, but am I actually functioning? I get nothing important done, I wake up sad and go to bed sad. It’s not even just your typical ‘wow my feelings are hurt’ it’s more like a constant ache in the chest because I feel really lost in life at the moment? I try my best to be chill and act like everything is fine but there are times like right now where I just crumble and don’t know how to cope with such a large wave of emotion at once.  I’m taking my medicine properly-- granted I did accidentally miss a dose the other day--- but that’s not an issue. It’s the only thing helping me not lay in bed all day. I just don’t know what to do with myself. 

Every time I look at things I used to do, like Facebook Rp -- and even right now Vocaloid and MMD is making me sick just thinking about it-- I feel saddened by the thought like..wow I used to enjoy these things. Wow, I used to get a kick out of doing these things with other people. I had so much fun.

But I don’t have that anymore.

It’s all just constant reminders now like hey armin past two years have been great yeah? too fucking bad they aren't now. I feel so worthless. Like I speak up and try to get back in touch but in the end, everything dies again and no one is interested in anything I have to say. Not interested in my ideas or my hobbies. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is even interested in me as a person anymore..Obviously, that’s a big part since It’s been made painfully clear that I am not worth having around despite my best efforts. 

I’m so tired of having to act like I’m fine and nothing is bothering me in life and I don’t even get a break with doing it. I have to keep this facade up for at least almost another month because I’m just..not allowed to feel negative about anything, I guess? Feeling anything beyond positive emotion makes me a bad person despite the fact of what I’m still trying to process and climb over emotionally.

I miss feeling like someone care for me because they truly wanted to. because they enjoyed me as a person. i went from feeling like a 10 to an absolute 0 within the span of an hour two fucking months ago and I havent been able to pick myself back up since. and it hurts. it hurts and my quality of life is suffering from it. my grades are suffering from it. what friendships i still have are suffering from it.

i dont even feel like a person anymore 

and I know that if anyone reads this and has the slightest idea of what I’m going through or is even involved in it, they’ll just kick me more while I’m down.

indirectly punish me for even daring to speak up about how i truly feel and think about cutting off all ties with me because I’m just toxic dead weight at this point. i learned that i’m not allowed to talk about my feelings on my facebook already and now when i slip up and do, i panic and delete it because what’s more important

trying to vent healthily or hiding my true feelings as a way to try and impress someone and prove that i’m not what they said i was turning into

obviously, their opinion of me is more important because I’m stupid

and I’ve gained two pounds from stress eating i guess so that helps nothing

I just want to waste away 

like

literally

can I just get smaller and smaller until I become a tiny spec and disappear into thin air like the ending scene to some cartoon

idk

the few things i really want to try and do again, no one is interested in so i’m just going to go crawl back into my hole of fake joy and contentment so people won’t further grind me into the ground

[starnova-between-two-worlds]

Born this way.

Music: Various Vocaloid songs/some Calum Scott 

All signs, it turns out, point to me having been born with this. 

Yesterday I finally worked up the nerve to ask my dad about what my babyhood was like. Except for snippets in a baby book updated up to age 4, my babyhood is entirely shrouded in mystery. I wanted to know what went on then, if anything at all went on that could have somehow led to this. What happened to make me...a glitch? Did it happen back then? 

It was my dad talking and he likes to idealize things, so I can’t tell how much of it he really told me or how much of it was just tiptoeing around the bush to make things sound normal. After all, he does that for his wife now even though anyone with a brain knows something’s terribly wrong. But in that moment he didn’t really have TOO much reason to lie to me. It was only me and Lightning there. His wife wasn’t there. I expected some glaring incident to stick out at me--something that would make me go “AHA!” and understand everything. The first thing I asked about was how I was nearly miscarried early on into the pregnancy, which I had learned from reading the baby book was a thing that happened. I wondered what his wife had done to cause a near-miscarriage, and what it could’ve done to my developing brain... 

Well, turns out she did nothing. He said even the doctors couldn’t figure out the cause, other than “complications.” My fetus had just decided to attempt suicide for no discernible reason, by the sounds of it. Scary. I almost died when I was still a 21-week-old fetus, for no real reason other than just deciding to jump ship. You take that to bed with you about the blessing of being alive...

I asked why I had to be in the NICU when I was born (which was a screwed-up birth process, it turned out. Maybe that was secretly the “AHA?” The fact that for some reason the doctors had to fucking fight to get me out of the womb because I was stuck in the damn corner? I don’t know, I don’t know enough about conditions that cause prenatal brain damage. More “I’m so fucking glad to be alive” material, though, as I could’ve ended up stuck in there and died). It was just for jaundice. And did they visit me in the NICU? I had a feeling my dad’s wife wouldn’t have visited me because “She couldn’t be bothered.” But no, she did. They both came by every day to hold and feed me. Even my dad’s wife, who by the sounds of it, was either totally normal during my entire babyhood, or was doing a damn good job of pretending to be...

Other than the “your birth was really fucking complicated and you almost died twice” story and being born on the low end of “healthy birth weight” (to think I’d NEVER be a tiny person again), the rest of it was...unremarkable. I sat there listening to how absolutely nothing abnormal or untoward happened during my first three years of life. In fact, the developmental markers were all hit quickly and very early, one after the other in rapid-fire succession. A hyper-processing supercomputer even at that tiny age...figuring words out and succeeding at an early age, walking at 8 months old, tiny sentences 8 months later. For some reason, I always expected to be a slow, delayed baby. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had turned out I didn’t speak a real word until I was 3 years old. To see it marked down that I was talking in sentences by 16 months was a mind-blower. He said my doctor at the time couldn’t figure it out how I was born 6 weeks premature (another “AHA?” Maybe?), yet everything had not only fully developed the way it was supposed to but had developed BEYOND what it was supposed to. 

...So what the hell. 

I obviously didn’t tell my dad the real reason I wanted him to tell me all these stories. I waved it off as “There’s an entire 3 years of my life that’s a complete mystery to me” which is not a lie. The real reason was that I wanted to find the “AHA,” the thing that had happened which had led to this mystery that psychiatric science happens to have a name for, schizotypal. I wanted to see if anything had been done to my poor brain by that narcissist I was at the mercy of for all of my childhood. I wanted to know WHAT HAPPENED.

Only to find out that nothing happened. My babyhood was...well, not typical considering the advanced development, but not anything that pointed to something outside causing this mental illness. When we thought it was BPD, we could pinpoint EXACTLY what would have caused it. But now... 

The symptoms of this particular monster started to show up at around age 3. Dad told me about how they would take me to the park, but I hated other kids and would avoid them like it was an instinct. If one came around, I would hide until they went away. I could understand why. It’s the same reason I don’t like people now: they’re loud, they act weird, they get in my way, and you never fucking know what they’re going to do next. It’s the reason I now wear noise-blockers when in the presence of other people at school. I never liked the two-legged vermin. It sounds as though even my first experiences with social peers were not happy ones. Dad said he ended up having to take me to an old park where nobody else ever came around to, and I had the time of my life, playing with “the dinosaurs” and “Miss Frizzle and the Magic School Bus” and “Flotsam and Jetsam,” Ursula’s two eels who were my favorite characters (can I take a moment to brag that by 4 years old I could pronounce most of the dinosaurs’ names, including things like “baryonyx” and my favorite “parasaurolophus”? I couldn’t SPELL them for shit, but I could say them. Though I remember having trouble with “euoplocephalus” and would call it “euoplocetalus”). 

Now that I think about it, could these have been proto-soulbonds? 

I started fixating on anything with a screen at 3 years old. What can I say? Those screens showed me windows into worlds that even then I felt were so much nicer than this one. I mentioned the Zoogs from Disney Channel in another post. Anyone remember  those little pixelated cyberspace-alien things from the acid-trippy Disney segments in the late 90s? Well, those things were my greatest “friends” back in the day. But people from this world? Those loud, fleshy creatures that only LOOKED just like me? It turns out there was never a moment in time when I didn’t want them the hell away from me. 

This has been going on LONGER than I can remember... 

And we have no discernible reason why. 

Which can only mean one thing: I was born this way. 

Born glitched. Born incompatible. Born into a world in which I just do not belong...and never will. A critical error...

It’s been a day and I still don’t know what the fuck to do with this information. I really don’t. The first thing I did when I got home from school was go directly to Google and not pass go. I slammed “was I born schizotypal” into that Google search like my life depended on it...and I felt very much like it did, at the time. Well, even Google was like “Why the fuck are you asking me that question” and giving me arbitrary links...and then I found two things: a research study on the birth factors behind schizotypal, and a PsychCentral forum post by schizotypals asking eachother when it all started. 

To make a long story short because I really don’t want to type anymore (I’ve been sitting here for a goddamn hour and my feet are getting restless to get up and move)...I was born this way. 

And I still don’t know what to do with this information. All I know is I kinda don’t want to go to school today. Except Edward says that will only make me feel worse... 

And the worst part of all is that this means I could have broken her...

What would you do if your child was born fundamentally cut off from her own world?