#anonblog

Sometimes I really don't know what I am feeling anymore and it's really hard.

I just feel confused and tired-- so tired.

I keep wishing I can freeze everything right at the moment I am in, so I can rest within an unmoveable nook of time. Just a small fragment of time is all I am asking for. Just for the opportunity to not have to continue going and going and going, until I am so numb to everything. But of course, the most unforgiving and cruel thing about living is time. No matter what we do, time is still there creeping up behind us-- taking away everything from us, until there is nothing else.

I just feel like lately everything is falling apart, caving in on me, wearing me down, and crushing me. I can't breathe or escape and I have no idea how to make things better or where to even start the process. I feel like I have given so much of myself away so carelessly that I now have no idea who I am and it hurts.

It hurts to not know why I am here or what I am supposed to be doing to make myself happy in this short life. I feel like I have just been following the ideals of others to make everyone else around me happy. I gave up dreams and aspirations and passions and time that I will never be able to reclaim. I have given my whole life to make others happy and all it did for me, was make me miserable. I feel empty and I don't know how to fix it. It hurts even more when I think about all the memories that I have blocked out and all the time I have erased from my mind simply because I needed some way to cope. I think I was just forced to grow up too fast and take on roles I should not have even needed to play for a very long time.

I played the role of mother for my sister and I don't regret a single second, but deep inside it just hurts so bad. Not an overwhelming ache, more like one that grows and grows, creating this burning feeling inside. My sister had a "mother" who cared for and loved her and listened when she was bullied or hurt or sad. She had and has me. But who did I have? No one. I had no one. I had to take on the role of the perfect mother figure, yet my mom (our real mom) couldn't even seem to care when I was ten years old begging her to stop drinking.

Perhaps this is an overshare-- but it hurts-- No actually-- it kills me that my sister had a mother there and I did not. I was there, I always had to be there because if I wasn't my sister would have no one, just like I always did. Yet, I am still the target of my mother's ire and anytime I see her it is usually followed by an argument or accusation, or insult.

I just hate that I am jealous and envious. I hate that I will always wish for a mother I am never going to have. I hate that time is immovable and unchangeable-- time is fixed and no matter what I do I will never be able to go back and have a different mom. I will never have the mother I truly deserve and that hurts worse than anything because I will always wish for it.

At every birthday, at every Christmas, at every shooting star across the sky-- I will always wish for her-- for my mom, before the alcohol because I need her and I can never have her back again.

Nothing is more heartbreaking than seeing your parent right in front of you and not recognizing who they have become. It's like she has died and been replaced by some strange new person I don't even recall in my memories.

Why are people antagonized for being on diets, or being vegan? I can think of three movies off the top of my head that I watched as a CHILD were the villains or mean girl(s) explicitly state that they’re on a diet of sorts. 

-Princess Protection Program: the mean girl says something along the lines of “I’d rather eat carbs than lose”

-Cinderella Story: Austin asks Sam whether she’d want to eat a Big Mac or a rice cake. When she asks why he says something like “I like a girl with a hearty appetite.”

-Return to Halloweentown: the love interest tells Marney he likes a girl who eats a lot.

Are you kidding me?? All these movies are marketed and made for young girls, why are we showing that being on a diet is bad? And if youre not on one, youre “not like other girls,” and will get the guy. Just,,,what’s wrong with diets and veganism anyway?? It’s not hurting anyone. They’re super helpful mentally and physically, why do we beat down women for being on them, yet shame them when they’re not skinny? I bet if the girl in those movies were “fat,” they wouldn’t be saying that-in fact, they’d prolly be encouraged to go on a diet!! 

wanted to give a couple updates:

i’m doing a lot better!! i got into my top choice university and i’m enjoying the new place, new perspectives, and new opportunities. i’ve been working on making friends, it’s a process for me but i’ve made some connections and i’m hoping for the best

because my university offers health insurance, i’m FINALLY receiving needed medical and mental healthcare. i’m on medication and i’m going to therapy every week. i finally feel like my eyes are finally open and i can truly feel optimistic and do more for myself. i didn’t realize how long i’ve been suffering, or how serious it was, until recently because of it, but i feel like i can actually live and be content.

of course there’s more to do mentally/emotionally, which i’m actively working on, which is expected, but my new methods of self care really help. i’m trying to take a break from social media, mainly youtube, because it just feels so draining and depressing with how much hatred and misogyny there is, and how easily videos can lead to a dangerous alt-right pipeline. i’m glad i caught it and am taking this break so i can just focus on more productive activities. i’ve felt almost addicted to youtube for years so i’m taking it as a good sign.

that’s all the major updates now. i’m just trying to relax on my night off, talk to some girlfriends and watch a comfort movie after seeing so much draining content. here’s to a restful, lazy sunday tomorrow 🤍

I’ve haven’t posted in a long time, I’ve meant to— but every time I thought about it, I just turned off my phone. It seems like too much work to even type. I’m just tired.

I’m supposed to go back to graduate school next week and I’d rather bundle myself up into a ball and hide away. I just don’t want to do it. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want this to seem as though I don’t like school or learning because I do, however the crushing expectations, the financial loss, and the approval of my parents— not so much. I just feel so anxious and depressed. I don’t want to keep going.

When I think about the world and humanity as a whole, I become even more depressed. Our world, our Earth, and our home— above all else, is literally burning to the ground while simultaneously sinking and melting. It’s an ironically painful juxtaposition and it makes me wonder why I should care. Why should I care about anything, when nothing even matters or makes a real difference. No change is ever really enacted and no follow through is used. We talk of great change yet we are failing over and over again.

How are we, as humans, expected to muster the courage to continue going on everyday on a burning rock in the sky, hurdling towards certain climate, political, financial, and human disaster.

Through the loss and sickness we have all experienced in the last few years, it’s hard to believe in a world that is not broken or deeply flawed in every way— because it is. The system is broken and the people claiming to run it cannot even act like grown enough adults to take on their positions seriously, responsibly, and without their own self interests clouding their judgment.

The world is disgusting and rather than improving we devolve and call it progress. But of course we do— humans are motivated by lies and power and fear.

We don’t love— we conquer and destroy.

We believe the world is ours and ours alone. But to think we are so important that we can destroy an entire planet with fossil fuels in our air and cancerous chemicals in our food and ignorance in our hearts, without any consequence, is beyond belief.

So tell me, why keep going? Why move forward? Why bring children into this world? Why should we even try?

Personally, I’m tired of being a person who cares far too much, stuck in a world with far too many people who care too little.

I'm not doing well.

I don't know what is going on anymore and I am just so exhusted all the time. I just wish I could sleep for a while, without everything changing or coming craching down after a few hours.

I don't know what nothingness feels like, but I imagine I am someone close to it at this point. Everything just feels disconnected-- abnormal-- stratified-- distant. I am balancing between feeling so much, while equally feeling nothing at all. I am not really sure how that is even possible, but that's the only way I can begin to attempt to explain the feelings I am experiencing.

Sometimes I miss something, but I have no idea what that is or why I am missing it. I just feel sorrow and sadness and if I am honest it is painful to constantly feel this way. I try to tell myself all the ways I am lucky for my life and my circumstances, because so many others are suffering in such awful ways. But it doesn't make my situation any less valid or real. I just don't understand why there is so much hate and anger.

At the same time, I am constantly feeling like I am holding everythign back, swallowing down the words I really want to say, and the way I really feel.

Sometimes I really feel like my mother hates me. She's just so mean and hurtful and I can't for the life of me understand what I could have done wrong to make her so hateful toward me. Sometimes I think it's because she knows my dad and I are closer than her. I sometimes think that she is jealous or maybe envious of the connection I have with my Dad.

It's nothing weird or strange-- we just relate to one another and see a lot of the world through a similar perspective. Even more so, my dad has always been my favorite person in the world. He's been the hero in every story, the protagonist in every memory, and the savior in every dream. No matter what-- he has always been the most important person in my life. Even further, I think I slowly, but surely, became one of his favorite people too. Of course, my father has always cared for and loved me, after all, he is my father-- but as I got older we became friends of sorts. I can never truly explain or convey the love I have for my father, but when I say he is the best person I have ever known, I do not mean this facetiously or in a fictitious manner. He truly and honestly is the most wonderful person I have ever met, and I can only hope to be half the person he is.

But-- I sometimes think my dad enjoys my company because I remind him of my mother before the alcoholism-- before she became someone we don't recognize. My dad says I sucked all the humor and fun from my mother the day I was born. I usually laugh when he makes this comment, but oftentimes it just makes me sad.

Sad-- because I feel like I have stolen away something that was so precious and treasured, without even knowing I was doing it. Part of me sometimes believes I am the catalyst behind all of the issues in my family and all of the animosity constantly brewing between my parents.

I don't know...

That's probably not true and most would say I am being dramatic, but it just hurts. It aches deep down.

I guess-- at the end of the day, I (just) can't understand why my mother hates me. I try so hard to make her proud. I try so hard. But, I feel like nothing I do is ever good enough. Each milestone met is greeted with another expectation or another mountain to trudge.

Why can't I make her love me?

Why doesn't she love me?

What did I do so wrong and why can't she just love me the way mothers are supposed to love their daughters?

I'm not sure and maybe I'll never truly know, but honestly, that's okay. AND-- Maybe one day, I will know all the answers to my questions, and that's okay because, at the end of the day, everything in life has to be "okay". All of us-- even subconsciously, is hoping that life will remain in a constant state of "okay-ness" because admitting otherwise is sometimes too painful to bare-- and that's okay too.

I have begun to realize that life is not supposed to be made of constant joy or linear happiness-- life is not supposed to be about constantly striving for the next sliver of enjoyment. Life is supposed to be about experiencing everything that human existence allows us. We are supposed to experience great joy and happiness and love and pure unadulterated wonderment in the world. But, we also have to experience the inverse-- deep sadness and loss and despair and hopelessness.

Balance is the key-- and although we suffer, we feel equal parts joy and sadness.

We get the opportunity to feel so much in this life, and although it hurts immensely, it serves to remind us how beautiful life can truly be.

I don't know why I have created this blog or why I have insisted on remaining anonymous as I highly doubt anyone will stumble upon this account or even read the words I am writing. However, I feel deeply compelled to continue writing anyways, even though it kind of already feels like a fools errand before it has begun.

Someone I loved told me I should start a blog and use that outlet; ever since then I have not been able to stop thinking about it. I think it might help me because lately I have felt weird-- to be honest I have felt that way forever, but as of late it feels as though I have crossed a strange invisible line. I don't know why, or how, or what may have triggered it occurring-- I just know it happened. Now I feel like an empty husk and I am starting to realize an all too worse truth, that I have felt this way for a long, long time.

It hurts to not know when or if I have ever been truly happy in my life. Everyday I feel less and less motivation to keep pushing on-- I don't want to die, I just am so tired. It feels endless and I feel like I have no purpose or true path. Nothing calls to me and although I have people in my life who love me deeply, I feel something is missing. I feel as though I should be someplace else entirely.

I feel guilt because I have people who love me and care for me, but I still feel like something or someone is missing. I don't know why I feel this way or when I started to-- I just do (always).

It hurts to not know why I exist and it hurts even more to have to continue living to find out the answer, but perhaps that is the true purpose of life -- to suffer in pursuit of the real meaning behind your own existence. But perhaps I am just a prime looney-bin candidate. However, if there is even one other person who reads this and understands, I won't feel so lonely. I know other people suffer and experience such sadness-- perhaps this is just a result of the human condition. Or maybe humans are just puney emotional things that are putting on a funny play for God or what ever universal being is the creator of all things. Eitherway, it hurts and it sucks even more when you consider how small our lives here on Earth truly are. We live such short lives -- just a mere blip in a cosmos of history and in a time of constant progression.

Even as children, we are conditioned to go to school and pursue a life path which inantely forces us to conform; fall in line with societal expectations. I believe that many children experience external pressure from there family or guardians or peers. Due to this children rush through life making all their most important decisions based on the approval of others. We go throug life believing that we must do this in order to "fit". But what we don't know is that we rob ourselves in the process -- we take away any opportunity for natural progression or exploration or discovery and replace it with responsibility, duty, and the happiness of others before ourselves. Although this is a noble and selfless act, it is also foolish -- even moreso it is saddening. To grow up so fast that we forget what it used to be like to be happy and care free as children.

Sometimes I attempt to look back at my childhood, but everytime I think about it I get sad because there are giant holes and gaps in my memories -- like my whole life has been repressed and forgotten. When I was young I had to take on the responsibility of emotionally supporting my younger sibling who was six years younger than me. Although I did not drive her around or take her to doctors appointments, I was still there for her when it came to the emotional care a parent should provide. I was like a parent and I still am in ways despite me being young.

For this reason, I started to realized that I had blocked out the majority of my memories throughout the entirety of this time. It makes me sad not to remember -- it makes me feel stupid, but I know I couldn't have done anything about it. During that time, I just wanted to disappear. I just want to not be concious. I wanted to be numb and I was.

I wish I had more time to be a kid and be care free like I should have been. I want it to be known that I don't regret taking care of my sibling and I would never want to change the connection we now have, as it is apart of who I am fundamentally-- I just wish I had the chance. Even just the option because having no options and no choices is worse than anything. I just wish I had the mother I had to be for my sister. But-- you can't change the past and you can't change the actions of others, especially those of the people who should be there for you most in this world.