claire

People are not soft and nice anymore. Not everyone, but a lot of people. I keep witnessing conversations that feel like BB pellets to my limbic system and prefrontal cortex. Just like when you're anxious so your heart feels like it's in your throat, but the BB pellets to the brain- I can feel them in my jugular. Lust is beautiful and thrilling and creates a great deal of vibrancy to everything, but I'm fatigued by the overt and seemingly shallow amounts of lust that occupy my mind when I'm alone and less down on my luck than normal. It's caffeinating. Makes me sweat, shakes me up a bit, but ultimately causes me to develop the most incredible amount of stress once the invited benefits wear off.

I don't know what has gotten into me as of the last few days, but I feel incredibly disappointed in all that has happened in this one particular situation. I think part of my issue is I've lost outlets of expression and have turned to vocalizing my thoughts online. Like I want to say something, but because of where I say it I can only say something else. I'm thinking a very real thought, but when I read the room and open my mouth all that comes out is a whistle. They're all thoughts that are never truly meaningful to me because they aren't meant to be in the platforms I'm utilizing, but I know what I need is something much more of value.

It's all so self imposed and I know it's a me issue. I go on these week to month(s) long breaks, but if I do it now it won't be the same as usual. I don't have the outlet of that partner I had. I don't long for the person, but I long for the conduit for my observations and expressions. Even thinking about handing out the invitation makes my stomach tense. It confirms that I only miss the solace I lack on my own.

I'm acting out in front of people and I'm acting alone in my apartment while sitting on my couch and I'm overwhelmingly gutted when I come to and realize I'm laughing and crying at the same time imagining something is there as a way for me to comfort myself. Vogue makeup tutorial Jimmy Fallon moment so to speak. I'm being intentionally vague but also blatant enough for it to all make sense. I'm mentally 16, mind you. I don't write, I never have, and even if I wish I was better I wouldn't know where to begin so this is what I'm doing instead. I've been repeatedly weirded out and also kept sort of high and dry over things partially of my own doing. I miss my parents and my grandparents. I love where I am but I don't love exactly where I am, y'know? You! Yes, you!

My therapist will be hearing from me. It won't be soon before long.