overdue vent blog

completely submerging myself in fictional narratives and lives in order to avoid descending into a Constant Panic Attack is probably not the best Coping MechanismTM but it’s like. not the worst either, so. shrug emoji.

i’m disgusting

nobody would believe me anyway

but there are some very compelling reasons that it literally doesn’t make any sense that i would have made it up. too many things too soon too often for anything to make sense except that it actually happened. that i’m not making anything up that - i don’t know exactly how i don’t know specifics - it happened. it happened.

what if i’m crazy what if i’m making it up what if i’m inventing the whole thing what if i’m reading too much into things i don’t even fully remember what if i’m just fishing for attention what if i’m wrong what if i’m lying wht if i’m lying what if i’m lying

i don’t know if it happened, i don’t know if what i think happened actually happened but if it did a lot of things make sense that never made sense and always scared me because i didn’t understand them. i don’t know if it happened but i think it did.

i don’t feel safe in my body

super wanna die like super super don’t wanna be alive right now would LOVE TO DIE TBH

any tiny sound and my hands are tight fists and i can feel the flinching right down inside my body and i feel these weird shiver things i’ve never been able to describe that happen where it’s like i’m shaking or vibrating and it’s especially strong at the base of my skull and just below the bottom of my ribcage and i cannot close my eyes

i can’t close my eyes. i can’t close my eyes. 

stupid fucking trigger! stupid fucking flashback!!!! it wasn’t even that bad it can’t possibly be that bad i barely remember most of it! i was like three or four! it was so fucking long ago! and yet here i am one second i’m reading some fic and the next second i’m pulling at my own hair going “please stop please stop please stop” and i can’t close my eyes because every time i do for longer than a blink i’m there and i’m terrified. this is stupid this is so!! stupid!!!!

i can’t want to know my dad’s heritage, his history, his culture, his people, without wanting to know him. i don’t get to have it both ways.

every minute that i spend here watching her interact with them like everything is fine i just feel fucking crazy.

my mother guessed that one time in the car that im afraid of my grandmother and she laughed at me and then seemed like she was antagonising shit between my grandmother and i on purpose to Prove something to me. my sister thinks im ludicrously nervous for no reason, she acknowledges that "our relationships with mom and grandma are different~" but she's so buddy buddy with them it feels surreal. i don't know. i don't know.