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A journey of self-improvement - or not. |
Sup? I'm Char. You may know me from timeless classics such as
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I blog for things like
[Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya Buyin' all the products that they're sellin' ya They say jump and ya say "how high?" Ya braindead, ya got a fuckin' bullet in ya head |
Artist: Sufjan Stevens Song: Enchanting Ghost [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" ![]() About roses or people, do you agree? 100% agree. And I don't give a fuck what anyone tells me, there is absolutely power in fragility. There is power in vulnerability. I hate this societal idea that pervades every aspect of life pushing the narrative that only analytical, logical things have value. Fuck that and fuck you. I'm analytical for 50 hours a week while I do accounting. I'm not going to spend my free time patting myself on the back for making astute, surface-level observations on a litany of bullshit. Whatever. I'm off topic already. How emotionally stunted of me. The fact that we applaud people for 'rising above' anything that has emotional depth grosses me out. Growing up isn't my forte. In my late teens/early twenties, people were more tolerant of me and my #issues. In my late twenties, it's incredibly difficult to get anyone to see me as anything other than emotionally crippled and immature. Who could have guessed that untreated mental illnesses don't just go away? No one could have predicted that I wouldn't "outgrow" a lifetime of deep trauma by age 25. It's difficult for me to even communicate with other humans at this point. I have all this shit that goes down in my life, and yeah, 90% of it is probably me fault, but that isn't really the point. The point is that it's hard to go from the shit I experience on a daily basis to having a normal conversation with another adult human. Every time I talk to someone, I feel like I'm making a dialogue choice in a video game that is going to determine whether I gain or lose favor with the other person. It's hard to even respond to, "Oh, hey, how are you doing?" "What have you been up to today?" Do I fucking lie? Is that what normal, mature adults do? I've gotten to the point where people are so sick of hearing the same shit from me that I could say the craziest fucking thing is up and they're essentially like, "Ah, I see..." Like, no one wants to be that fucking person. But my options are like do I just lie to this person's face and have all of our conversations go like, "Hey, how are you doing?" "Fine, you?" "Yeah, I'm good too, I was just reading this book about a dog that found its way back to its owner after being lost for two years and..." That's great sometimes, but with the absolute hellhole of a backdrop I have going on, I will instantly fucking dissociate during these conversations. I don't even feel like a real person who is present in the moment. I don't even feel like I exist. Especially because I've gotten to the point with people where I can tell them what's going on and they'll still tell me about the book about the dog who found its owner after being missing for two years. Literally, "Hey, dude, what's up?" "Ah, I just got my fucking ass handed to me. I'm losing my mind; I need to get the fuck out of here." "That's cool, I was just reading this book about a dog that found its way back to its owner..." From a comedic standpoint, fucking hilarious. From a human standpoint, I completely depersonalize and derealize in that moment. I feel like I don't matter, I guess? And like regardless of what I responded with, you were going to tell me about the dog book. It isn't other people's fault, really. I don't know what can be expected of others, especially because every shitty thing in my life is directly related to having borderline personality disorder. I'm just insanely impulsive and self-punishing. My relationships are an absolute clusterfuck because I allow them to be, because I don't know how to accept love that isn't toxic. Any time I try to extricate myself from a shitty situation, I feel a high level of guilt for 'abandoning' the situation. And if we're being real, I don't believe I deserve to be free of bad things in the first place, so that kills the motivation a bit. I'm trying to get to the point where I don't openly share things with people. It's part of the impulsiveness of my mental health disorder. Oversharing things that people don't really give a fuck about is kind of a trademark of BPD. Then later you're embarrassed like, why did I even try to talk to that person about something they have absolutely zero interest in? Then you hate yourself a little bit more and it just cycles that way endlessly. And I'm always reminded of being 16 and obviously being kicked out of my parents house. And having my older brother look me directly in my eyes and call me a burden. I've never been able to escape the feeling I felt then. That feeling of like, You're an annoyance to others. You don't bring anything valuable to the table. People would be better off without you... It isn't fair or reasonable to put your fragility and sensitivity on other people. It's not fair to expect for someone to continuously uplift you from situations you willingly put yourself in. I think what's hard to understand is that in the moment, I really don't care. I'm so full of self-rage that I don't care if I've put myself in a dangerous situation. I don't care that someone is being aggressive or violent with me. I don't care if someone beats the fuck out of me. I don't care about the money. My mind completely blanks out. It's like someone choking you and your vision is starting to grey out. And I'm just like, fucking kill me. please. It's almost cathartic in a way because all of my fears, all of my anxieties that have led me to that moment, are just gone. It's like if you jumped off a roof and you didn't care because you'd already leapt? Those moments are so peaceful for me because it's too late and it was in my control. The situation is out of control, but I made an active choice within my control and now whatever happens, happens. I just feel so calm. But then, inevitably, when I survive the encounter, I have days of emptiness that follow. I have deep shame and guilt because I'm so angry at myself. I'm in physical and mental pain, but I still have to act normal. So I talk to someone and they're like, "Hey, how are you, I'm going to tell you about this dog book regardless of how you're doing, but go ahead and tell me so we can move on to the part where I tell you about the dog book." And it feels like my experiences aren't real. Like, the juxtaposition makes me dissociate and makes me feel so abnormal and just nonexistent. Because I feel so nonexistent, I end up cycling back to it because I need to feel something again. I'm not even doing it for the money at this point, I'm just doing it so I can feel like a person who exists for an hour. It just loops like that endlessly. People who know me more intimately are just like, "Holy fuck, dude, just stop." But I can't. Because I'm completely disconnected from the world and everything around me and I need to briefly connect myself to something. So, to the people who say or imply that people shouldn't be fragile or shouldn't be vulnerable (especially openly/publicly), this is what you're dismissing. This is what you're brushing off as worthless. Oh, and P.S. I started doing drugs again. Bye. |