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My room is genuinely so bad currently. It's embarrassing and shameful that I live like this. No one has seen my room in years. It gets better for a small time, then gets worse again.
Trash, food, bugs, fruit flies, mold, dust, bags, clothing, plates, bowls, silverware. A pathway that's clear, but everywhere else isn't.
I haven't washed my bedding in months, maybe a year. I have the time to clean. I just don't. It always seems too much or too hard. Or just no motivation to do it.
Then I'll clean a part of the room, feel good. Then it'll slowly get bad again. I never fully clean it. I never let my friends in it. I don't tell people about it.
It's just too embarrassing. I'm supposed to be better than this.
Not a good day today. It was mostly neutral, but the thoughts keep coming back. Makes me so tired trying to keep them away. Sometimes they stay away or stay quiet. But then they get real loud, so loud I can't ignore them.
Then I get stuck in a thought loop.
About how angry I am at "RR". How much I hate him. How many problems would disappear if he was gone. How many problems I wouldn't have if he wasn't a part of my life.
About how complicated I feel about "RD". It's not entirely their fault, but their actions are their own. They act like they did nothing wrong. Like it means nothing. Like it never happened. But I'm supposed to care for them.
About how hard it is to be around "BA". It's hard watching them become a smaller version of "RR". It's not their fault. They're young, easily impressionable. But it's difficult to watch and listen to them become a mini "RR". There's nothing I can do about it.
About how I don't know how to feel about "IK". They made mistakes. Mistakes I'll never get genuine apologies for. Not because they think they are right, but because they genuine won't remember them due to a chronic illness.
About how much I love "FD". But I'm not the one for them. I never will. I'm not an option for them. It hurts in such a unique way. "FD" is such a big part of my life. If I confess, I ruin it and lose that part. I can't lose them. They make the day a little better. But it still hurts my chest to want and crave the same back from them. I know I won't ever get it.
About how much I rather be dead.
About how much I miss my old friends.
About the people who have hurt me.
About the people I hurt.
About the lies I told.
About the things I never got a chance to say.
About the mistakes I keep making.
About how much better it would be if I just passed away.
How I keep faking.
About how I don't know who I am anymore.
Endless circles, just constantly spiraling in an endless loop.
I swear I'm slowly losing it. I've got no motivation. No hope for the future. I'm tired and done. Yet, I'm too much of a coward to do anything about it. What's the point of this bullshit. No one's going to miss me. Everyone else has their person. I'm the extra. I'm second place.
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Time to ramble since I got no one else to ramble to (I'm convinced I'll bother them.)
My dudes, don't try overdosing. Unless it's some hard-core drugs, it ain't gonna really work. Personal experience, my dudes. Threw up a whole bunch, tummy hurt a lot, eyes didn't wanna focus properly, nausea. It just sucked.
Plus, the hospital workers will look at you with pity. Like you're pathetic and weak. Like you're some sad tragedy case. Plus, getting blood drawn both at the hospital and the psych ward sucks.
The psych ward wasn't terrible. It was a short term holding place, so it's meant to have people come and go, and not a whole lot to do. I was there for a little over a week, so I was slowly losing it. It was boring. The food wasn't bad and the staff were mostly pleasant. It was just an interesting experience. The most annoying time there was the fact it was lowkey centered around religion. It works for some, but not me. So having one of the "helpers" constantly bring up God and religion was annoying. Plus, a good chunk of the books were bibles or romance.
The rooms weren't bad. The rooms were made to have two people if they had to, but I was lucky and got the room to myself. It had a conjoined bathroom. The bathroom had a toilet and sink. There was no proper door, just a foam "door" that would cover the entrance, but not actually lock. The beds were thin, so were the pillows. It was often either too hot or too cold in the room. There was no cock either, which was annoying. I don't like not knowing the time. The staff also did regular checks, so they would open the room door (couldn't be locked) and check on the person every few hours during the day and night.
It wasn't very big. The hallway with the doors that lead to the patient rooms on either side, the shared lounge, and the gym plus art room on the other side of the nurse station.
The meals were on a set time, but we're always late. The staff would wake the patients up at about 5:30 am to take temperature, heart rate, and blood pressure. The shared lounge area wouldn't open until 7 am, so I had to just wait in my room. The lounge area had colored pencils, crayons, coloring books, a few reading books, a few games, a TV, and a fridge and water area. Breakfast didn't usually show up until 9 to 10 am. It was supposed to show up at about 8 am. However much time it was late for breakfast, lunch and dinner would also be late by that amount of time.
But those are my ramblings about my experience. Ask any questions, I'll answer them sooner or later.
Sometimes, I wonder if you care how much you have hurt me. If you realize how much you damaged me.
As parent and child, I was supposed to trust you the most. I was supposed to be able to go to you for help and advice.
It didn't work out the way. You became the first tormentor in my life, one I couldn't get away from.
Your memory fails you when it comes to accountability, but it works just fine to point out my flaws and shortcomings.
You get upset when I need help with something. You get upset when my emotions are shown.
But then you get upset when I don't talk to you. You get upset when I don't talk on a deeper level with you. You love to remind me that I'm your child.
There is no right way with you. I can't win with you.
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