Dear diary,

Summer air tastes bittersweet

7/13/24 Which came first?

  • debilitating depression
  • being back on the bottle
  • attempting to wean off my psychiatric medications without supervision or help from a professional
  • my period
  • lack of exercise
  • pure unmitigated yearning for romantic love
    • Vote now! When I'm in this state it's easy to convince myself I didn't really feel good prior, which makes me feel even worse. How fuckin dramatic... woe is me... did I EVER feel good? LOL I've been trying to make myself dance which is annoying, but I've convinced myself it will cure depression, increase confidence, and make me more beautiful. So of fucking course I'm not going to dance; I've just managed to take all the joy out of it by creating such high stakes. Speaking of high stakes, Trump got shot today and a bystander got killed. I witnessed some sad stuff at the library and messed up by checking out a phone charger to a homeless dude with replacement charges on his account. But the charges were from several years ago and he had since lost his home and most likely very much needed the charger... also, when I say back on the bottle what I mean is drinking a whiteclaw every night. 3 max. Am I trying to excuse that behaviour? Absolutely I am. It's not extreme yet, and I am indeed trying to wean off my meds, so maybe I would be feeling awful regardless. But I can't know, until I stop drinking again. So why don't I? *stops typing to drink* Probably because I've entered into an uzumaki... a positive feedback loop... I drink because it's been so long and surely I can now and it's 4th of July weekend so why not? It's pretty fun so I do it the next night. I start feeling bad during my days, so I drink to feel a bit better at night. I feel bad and anxious and hate my days, I drink at night to take some of the day off my shoulders, and on and on until I'm blowing up my life and swallowing my vomit and becoming even more dumb somehow. I haven't picked up the blanket for my bestie's wedding that I had been working so diligently on. I haven't danced, or read. I downloaded more stupid ass games on my phone. I'm going to go take too much melatonin and have weird dreams. Parts of me absolutely loathes and despises and hates other parts of me and then there are other other parts of me trying to mediate and comfort and love but she is fucking lame and weak and soft spoken and not convincing. Oh well oh well. Oh well oh well on well. Truly cannot believe I am a writing major. The fuck. I wish a couple times a day that I could curl up under whatever desk I'm sitting at and rock back and forth and squeeze my eyes shut and squeal like a truly deeply mentally ill person. I imagine it, I long for it, my body craves it. What can I do? Therapy? Surely not. Maybe I should go to Canada and microdose shrooms and transcend this shitty reality. There's also a part of me that is a touch schizo and convinced that if I change some crucial parts of me suddenly bad stuff would stop happening, the ozone layer would get thicker, America would become more socialist, and Israel would stop it's genocide. Andd what about it? And I'm supposed to feel shame? And I'm supposed to not feel like Neo in the Matrix? I saw 333, 777, and 666 on license plates today so that pretty much confirms my status as a god. Again, if you know me go the fuck away. Goodnight.

    6/21/24 I have been sharing this space with too many people I know in the real world. If you're here and you know me, go away. I would take the link back if I could, but I can't so I'm trusting you to lose it. Today I was reminded how weird I am about smells. Due to the nature of my "profession," I get to be around a wide variety of people, some of whom don't have access to showers or are physically unable to care for themselves. I will be holding a full conversation with folks while my coworkers are gagging in the background due to the smell of piss and shit. I guess there are a handful of smells that really get to me... gas exhaust makes me shudder but it's less the smell and more imagining the dirt in my lungs. The smell itself is great. Same with most cleaning products. I imagine my endocrine system endocrying. Tonight I'm nervous because the kitchen smells weird. Sort of chemically... burns my nostrils a bit. My parents aren't home so I called to see if they were cleaning anything earlier and combined products or something. They denied, and got off the phone quickly because they are on vacation from my neurosis. Oh well. I have a window open. I really hate fire season; it makes me feel claustrophobic. Hm... I guess I'd better take my mentally ill ass (also I just typed out mendally I'll, further proving the next few words) TO BED. GOODNIGHT.

    6/13/24: I am really tired. My hair is pink and I don't like it very much, but a patron at the library told me that I would melt my locks if I put orange over the pink and then brown over the orange. I've been thinking lately about the function of various relationships and how we as a society try to make everyone everything. I really started feeling this when I was a teacher... they are expected to teach kids morals and good character; a role ideally parents would fill. I also feel it at the library, where we're also expected to be quasi-social workers, tech support, after school care, and probably more I'm not thinking of because I am quite tired. Ideally, we would teach people how to find information, and help them find books. I sometimes rely on my friends to give me advice and impart wisdom, but Melissa pointed out that those things are more for mentors, counsellors, teachers, elders etc. Friends are for doing fun things together. Coworkers are for mutually making the work day easier. I guess all this is to say-- I'm learning that boundaries in relationships are good things and that I should perhaps start enforcing some more robust boundaries in my life. I tend to overextend myself, but I want to respect the function and definition of different relationships. I have much more thinking to do around this topic.

    6/9/24: I pulled a card from my "writing down the bonez" deck (#38): "Tell me about a pair of shoes you loved." I seem to remember white keds. Converse were a big deal. I don't think I've ever been without a pair of converse in my arsenal, or at least it's been nearly 20 years. I had a pair of suede black boots that I wore so often that holes in the heels let in rain water. This was high school, maybe freshman year. When I was very into Vampire Weekend in middle school (lol aw) I wore orangy leather boat shoes. They gave me blisters at first, but I wore them through the pain. That was, and is, a habit around footwear. Push through the pain, for fashion's sake, or just in case the pain might eventually go away. The pair of shoes that most exemplify this today are these cool nike old timey tap-looking shoes that I got when I was really inspired by Kyoka. Terribly uncomfortable, but oh so cute. What else, what else. I have a pair of shoes designed by Shaq called "Shaqnosis." I love them, but I wore them on a hike and then another time in the rain, so they are a bit beat. I have loved many a shoe. Saltwater sandals were my go-to as a bebe, and then again in high school. I've sported birkinstocks and crocs, and now adidas slides. I have these big giant stompers that I love but rarely wear. I'll wear them tomorrow. I love being tall. Did any of my shoes have platforms to them as a kid? I can't remember; I don't really think so. I wore nasty nasty ballet flats for a while that made my feet smell foul. I've also had quite a few mary janes and a couple penny loafers in college. I regret getting rid of those; I wore them through college and for years in San Francisco, and I think I just stopped wearing them or they were too beat up... maybe I do still have them. I'll have to look around. One pair of shoes that are mysteriously absent (that I need to find before Ann and I go camping) are my hiking shoes that I marble dyed with swirly colors when I was working on the goat farm. Right now I own two pairs of Danskos; I found brown ones at the thrift store soon after purchasing a pair of oil spill black beauties. This is maybe so fucking boring, but hot dang do I love getting dressed up. Makeup is a real hit and miss, but styling myself for the day has always been a source of joy! On another note I really need to stop eating so much sugar, because I think it's making me uglier and killing me slowly. Should I go to a hypnotist? I hope I get into the shroom study... Maybe that will knock me out of this habit. Maybe I should start taking lions mane again, but I read somewhere that it can trigger psychosis so it scares me a bit.

    6/4/24 Tomorrow I sacredly swear I won't post a video, but today I am feeling sentimental about the way watching dance makes me FEEL... definitely one of my favorite fixations in recent years, and there are always more styles/talent/songs/battles to discover. A list of dancers I like right now:

    Scrolling back through my Youtube history was.... humbling. I've been watching a lot of Slushy Noobs lately, which is big of me to admit.