I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I'm being drowned by some kind of black wave.
— Elizabeth Wurtzel
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@anathemacore
I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I'm being drowned by some kind of black wave.
— Elizabeth Wurtzel

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i love indexing colour
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
You want freedom? There is no freedom from life, and life is synthesis. You’d analyze yourselves to death.
SŁAWOMIR MROŻEK — Tango, transl. by Ralph Manheim & Teresa Dzieduszycka, (1968)
hey is anyone else sick of having to adapt to horrible conditions over and over again

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Do you have any advice for someone else who is in the very beginning stages of the "life is a precious gift rapidly escaping me, I have to change to become someone better and be happy before I've wasted all of it" transition? I'm tired of losing so much life and joy to grief and trauma and I also want to start creating and seeing and enjoying as much as I can for my tiny time as a carbon based lifeform but it's overwhelming to say the least
Actively seek out things that inspire wonder
Look for the good parts. There are good parts. There are interesting parts. There will always be good and interesting parts.
Treat yourself kindly. This one is difficult.
Do things out of ridiculous whimsy.
Practice cog itive behavioural exercises to self-examine and address beliefs and behaviors that are causing suffering.
Don't argue when people compliment you.
Don't rush yourself, and don't assume it'll be like this forever when you have a backslide. These things happen. Over time, they happen less.
Be honest with the people you love and trust.
Tell people how much they mean to you and what you like about them.
Help others and find satisfaction in being the stranger that did something good
Consider speaking to a medical professional, my antidepressants and anti-anxiety medical took some time to figure out but life is WAY better.
Have a silly little craft or hobby.
Let yourself be bored sometimes. Stand outside in the rain and let yourself get wet. Go on a walk. Put your phone in a different room and wander off. Meet up with a friend and go on a long walk together to nowhere in particular
Start doing things because you want to and it feels good, not just because you think it's something you should say yes to.
Say yes to things.
Take a random day of the week and go into a store or a business you've never been in before.
Compliment strangers when something about them is striking.
Read books and watch movies that make you feel the exact right amount of ecstatic and embarrassed, and make all the silly noises about it.
Collect scraps of fabric and little trinkets and all the little textures and colours you love and stash them in a shoebox or something like a tiny dragon's hoard.
Start a collection of something small and inexpensive. Like corks.
Make food with ingredients you've never used before
Make long lists of all your favorite things- flowers, bugs, songs, foods, places
Start a trash-book to fill with scraps of neat wrappers and bits of paper and colored fabric from old ruined clothes
Imagine yourself as a alien from a dead and barren world who has just arrived on this planet for the very first time and imagine how excited you would be by every little thing
Cannot recommend enough that you befriend a creature
i dont "struggle" with isolation, i'm actually soooooo super fucking good at it
blood coming down like a water fall
The simplest definition of trauma is an event or events that you can't process all the way. I guess this pisses your brain off cuz it usually comes with some pretty distressing side effects. Generally this makes sense because traumatic events are often distressing in themselves and that's what causes them to be harder to process, although this isn't necessarily always the case. Obviously I don't know all the science but I know myself as a clinically diagnosed severely traumatized person, and it feels horrible to not be able to process something. It feels like drowning in the shallow end when you know you know how to swim. It feels like not being able to remember something so important to you, and other people don't even know, or understand why it's important. Painful self betrayal, indescribable panic.
For a while the acceptable word to use for developmentally disabled people was "slow." I'm sure in some circles that haven't caught on this is still the case. Not ideal. At least somewhat derogatory. But, being autistic, this really is how it feels sometimes. Everything goes so fast and I don't know what to do with it all, especially with my upbringing, having been given so little to work with. I feel like I spend every year recovering from the whiplash of the previous one. That's what the passing of time feels like. Whiplash.
For a while when I was younger, when I was out of the house having fun (usually at my best friend's house), I'd always have this moment at the peak of my elation, where I stop and think. In a few minutes this will all be over. I'll be waking up and it'll be time to go home. In my mind, sleepovers end when we go to sleep. The morning after is for coming back down, and even if in reality I spent the better part of the next day still at my friends' house, it was never a continuation of the fun from the night before. Of course I preferred that to going home right away because I never wanted to go home, but it was still unpleasant, savouring the bittersweetness of the fact it was over. I hadn't slept well, and the rest of the time was just dreading the going home. I can't have fun when it's the same day of the going home.
As luck would have it, a common disorder associated with autism is sensory integration disorder- sensory issues are incredibly common in autistic people but ones severe enough can warrant their own separate diagnosis. I took an evaluation for sensory integration disorder in the hospital, and when my psychiatrist came back with the results, one of the first things she said was "How do you even function??" I said something to the effect of, well, clearly I don't cuz I'm in the hospital for kids who wanna kill themselves. She explained it to me as the inability to fully get used to sensory information in one's surroundings. The average person, on driving past the same tree every day to and from work, will, most likely rather quickly, get used to the tree. Often, they never really paid it that much attention in the first place because the brain is conditioned to filter out the majority of the sensory input it receives- because the majority of it isn't that important. The sensory integration disorder brain can't reliably identify what sensory input is or is not important, so to be on the safe side, it pays good attention to the tree every time like it's the first time. Anyone who's at least somewhat tangentially aware of autism knows that autistic people are not usually very fond of change or new things, because it's stressful for roughly such reasons. Involuntarily trying to process all sensory information as if it's new and could be really important is stressful and tiring, and for me at least processing the same old stuff is still pretty tiring just on its own, not to mention stuff that actually is new.
Amidst the over processing, I have to make an effort to prioritize what I can consciously identify as actually important. What happens then is that so much goes half processed, and I feel like so much of the time I'm grasping at straws and the straws are what happens day to day. I feel so left behind. It's all a blur. Days weeks months years. Can I ever really fully process anything?
The first six years of my life. I think I have a good hold on those. The rest is up in the air though. I was abused every day from birth until shortly after my seventeenth birthday. And since then I've just been reeling. 2022 After my mom kicked me out I went to the hospital again 2023 then I tried to get a job and have a partner and also I totaled my car and it was all too much and I violently crashed out. 2024 I was just trying to get a grip on it all while trying and failing to find a new therapist after a handful of terrible experiences. 2025 I moved twice, got a new therapist twice, started dating someone again, and tried to do two full terms of college before realizing I can't handle that. Now here I am. Drowning again.
I've done a lot of healing, really I have. But I have an immeasurably large amount of shit to heal from, and that's part of what makes it all so hard. The sheer weight of it all.
I was doing amazingly well last summer, the future felt bright. For a few months I felt genuinely okay. I felt better than I ever have probably in my life thusfar. And then I overdid it. I don't know how much is to blame on what. The college was a considerable part, but really the bulk is just the amount and rate of change. I'm halfway through 2026 now and I'm still trying to get back on my feet but it's excruciating.
Not only did so much change, but so much of it is so completely brand new. It's one thing to go from living with my grandparents to living with my mom again- it's something entirely else to live on my own.
I feel like I've been saying for awhile now, in part mostly to myself, that I'm losing familiar things in my life. Familiar things are what anchor me, and the longer I live on the further I move away from anything that feels familiar enough for me to almost not over process it quite so much.
In the last six months the only people I have had any kind of prolonged meaningful interaction with, especially on a weekly basis, is my therapist and my partner. Both of these people I've only known for a year. For all intents and purposes, they are not filed in my brain under "people who know me". They are safe people, but only insofar as I trust them to be who they say they are and that they are well intentioned. These things I know are true but they only get me so far. I live in a city I've never lived in before. I'm living alone for the first time. I shop for all of my groceries. I'm responsible for doing my dishes and sweeping my floor and cleaning my toilet. Before I moved into my apartment the most responsibility I had had for the past 5 years was doing my own laundry, and keeping up my bedroom. Everything else was taken care of. I bought my own groceries and made most of my own food, but even then I regularly was provided for in terms of food as well. It's all so new. It's all so much. I don't know what to do with it all. And on top of this, I have basically nothing to anchor me, to hold onto why I try to catch my balance in it all. I'm on a log raft in a stormy sea. Nothing to grab onto but the edges of the logs, my scraps of memories and my base level of sanity.
You'd best believe I feel it's incredibly annoying and stupid that literally all of these changes are positive. I wanted them. They're good. But they're still changes, and I'm still struggling to process them.

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Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice
you’d think at a certain point my brain would learn not to rip holes into my own skin to dig out things that do not exist
I feel like such a broken record and I feel so stupid about this but it keeps bothering me cuz I don't see a solution.
Nobody cares
Nobody cares!
But here I am.
I wanna have a culture. I could've had a culture. There's a culture that I could've had but I don't so I want it but it's not mine. I see other latines who get to have their culture and I just wanna cry. It's so stupid and nobody cares. I'm just a stupid gringo who happened to have an abuelita and a latino dad. No one. Fucking. Cares. Why would they. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter!! I shouldn't care!!!!!! I should just accept being white. But my dad's not white! His mom's definitely not white.
My abuelita died recently. It was only a couple years ago I learned abuelita doesn't mean great grandma but that's how we used it in my family. I always assumed it was because she was like four feet tall. She turned 100 a month before she died. I wanted so bad for her to tell me about her culture, but I knew she never would, probably not even if she didn't have dementia and I was speaking to my family. She did everything she could to be white. Her brown daughter my grandma checked "white" as her race in medical paperwork for fifty years before she realized she "could" check the hispanic box.
I just wanna know spanish. It's way harder to learn a new language than people think it is and good free resources are scarce.
It's fine. It's fine. Nobody fucking cares. It doesn't matter. I have fuckass blue eyes and fuckass light hair and nobody fucking cares. I constantly want to shove pictures of my dad in people's face and go look! Look I'm not white! Look at my dad! He's not white! I had an abuelita you guys!! I didn't see alice in wonderland in english until I was like 13, do I get a latine card? Do I do I??? Fuck off nobody fucking cares!!! Nobody fucking cares.

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Walking on Air