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Old Friend - Mitski · Resonance - Home · Homewrecker - MARINA

[17.12.21] Monday, 11:34am

I’ve found myself with little to do lately, no matter how I delude myself into thinking differently. Most recently, I’ve thought - I’ll rekindle my newfound interest in literature! I’ll turn a true blind eye to the real sense of the problem. As I feel my last hyperfixation slipping away, no longer able to grasp at its strings, I know I’ll have to find something soon.

Else, I experience what I think to be the worst feeling in the world. It’s boredom, but not as as you may experience it - quicksand is the only way I can think to describe it. Dramatic, it’s true, but it’s a sort of internal dread that forces me out of my mind and back to the very things I have been avoiding.

It is boredom, but one that doesn’t inspire me to change. It does the opposite. I will do absolutely nothing at all, and then I am unable to do anything at all. I only sink deeper and deeper as I lose interest in friends, hobbies, education - and so forth.

But even then, I’m never quite satiated. Last night, that very ‘interest’ in literature included only downloading the least boring-looking classical works to read, today. But something in me knew that I wouldn’t, and of course, I haven’t. I know I won’t enjoy them really, but being able to tell people that I own them is enough to impress.

And therein lies the part of me that upsets me the most. It’s a part of me I hate, the very fact that all this is simply for people to like me. And every single time, it’s all made useless by the fact I can’t keep my stupid mouth shut.

Nobody cares if you read classic literature. They’re not going to change their view on your, no matter how much you romanticise it. I have to plead with myself to stop oversharing, stop casually dropping such idiotic attempts to impress others in unrelated conversation. I really can’t. I hate myself.

It’s humiliating, and above all, it’s barely even things I like.

I force myself to only indulge in palatable interests. My games, music and media is all particularly and deliberately handpicked to be objectively uncringeworthy, for fear my apparent need to overshare will only lead to further shame. Imagine being publicly mocked for talking about a comic! Or something else bizarre. Sometimes it’s not even the public judgement - it’s the private judgement of expressions that catch my eye as my face heats read and I scream at myself to be quite. Never again.

It comes hand-in-hand with my willingness to recommend. The despair I feel when I recommend something to a friend, only to have them consume it and think of it as normal, ordinary, or at worst - boring. I’ll smile and nod and pretend I’m not selfishly upset when they don’t wish to talk for days on end with me about it.

Because in the end, other people are always right. These people have respectable music taste, the things they are embarrassed about are good. It makes me angry, again, and it shouldn’t. Be shy about things that are bad. Others will go to great lengths to hide the fact they listen to an artist I have to force myself to listen to for fear of not being seen as palatable. Be ashamed of something that’s worthy of it.

Again, it’s so unfair of me to project this on to people. I do this the most to one of the most important people in my life, and it sickens me. I’m jealous of the fact they listen to good music, that they enjoy small artists and are seemingly even unaware of the interesting person it makes them. How do you know? How do you find them? How do you enjoy this over my embarrassing taste, just as everyone else seems to? Stop. This is rude.

It’s not just that. They infuriate me so much - I feel like an awful person. Possibly the best friend I’ve ever had, and yet they won’t share a thing with me. (How selfish of me to think this.) But it’s only them and I, so why won’t you share it with me? It’s like drawing blood from a stone, the way they will turn any and all requests from me into some sort of joke. Asking what they’re doing is exhausting. It’s never honest, and sometimes I’m shocked to find that they like the same things I do, yet won’t engage with me at all when I talk about them.

I’m sorry. This is so rude. But what even is the point of being friends? I’m afraid to push the point, knowing I might upset them, but why won’t they tell me anything? I know they wouldn’t mention it to anyone else, either, but why do that to yourself? Jokingly, I suggested therapy, to which they admitted they wouldn’t even be honest to their therapist, should they have one.

I still don’t know why this infuriates me so much. It’s not even my business! But it’s that sort of reluctancy that I crave for myself… I wish I wasn’t so willing to share every inch of my personal life for every person I meet. It upsets me that they’re hurting, but it infuriates me even more that they refuse to take care of themselves and then won’t even tell me why. They barely slept last night, and I had to fight to keep myself from being angry for real. All I got was ‘I don’t know’ in a joking manner, no matter how much I politely pressed. I suggested even giving them the melatonin I use, to which they refused and even pretended to promise to sleep more tonight. I know they won’t, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

If you won’t tell me what’s bothering you, how I am supposed to help? You won’t help yourself. Discard that nobility and good-person shit and rely on me like I rely on you. You’re effectively ruining the following day, since you’ll be sick and moody, and yet I’m just met with further jokes. I’ve learned from experience. Why won’t you take me seriously?

Sorry. But this intrinsic need to be liked is what rests at the very heart of my soul. It manifests in jealously, knowing that people behave ‘normally’ so naturally, and gives way to the selfishness that rises up from believing they have it easy. I know they don’t. But it’s easier to be anxious when you don’t have to worry about the way you walk, breathe, handle information, sit, eat, stretch or live your life.

This is awful. I apologise. I’m sick of myself talking, and I need to leave soon anyway.

[11.12.21] Tuesday, 5:46pm

I can’t say today, or lately has been particularly exciting - I have a modified schedule, and I’m fairly grateful for that. But today, I was all alone at school.

I’m tired. Mentally. I have to focus on walking. It’s times like these where I realise I’m not as cured of social anxiety as I previously thought. I have to focus on not breathing too loudly, actually keeping my balance, deciding what side of the pavement I should swerve to and… it’s just sad.

It’s mostly the awkwardness that gets me. It’s horrible. No matter how hard I try - it’s not something you can learn. Nor practise - why do my hands fold like that? I shouldn’t have put my phone down so early. I have nothing to say to the person next to me, and now it’s awkward. I’ll pick it up again. That’s still bad, but not as bad as sitting in silence. I just completely fumbled the sentence in front of the whole class and later misunderstood the teacher entirely.

I know it’s not a big deal, I guess. I’ve mostly just accepted it, but I’m still crying. It’s so unfair. People don’t know how easy they have it.

I hate my coat. I’m so cold, naturally, that I’d simply freeze without it, but it’s awful. It makes me look bulky. Like a Year Seven. Don’t even laugh, I’m so insecure.

!! CW for (unhealthy) mentions of weight !!

I am kind of happy about what my mom said to me, though. Yesterday I wore leggings and she commented on how I’d lost so much weight and how I was ‘dangerously’ skinny. I know it shouldn’t have made me smile. I shouldn’t be happy. She told me to stop losing weight today, too. I feel so happy, even though I know I shouldn’t, I don’t really care. If anything, I’m annoyed it hasn’t really taken anything off my face. Whatever, it’s fine.

!! Done :) !!

I don’t know. Maybe I’m even tired of complaining at this point.

I only re-started school last Friday, since I have COVID, and it was fine even then. Today just sucked. Yesterday was awkward too, in German… God, it just seems like I lost all my social skills over the break.

I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about for now. I’m write a second entry for Unimportances. Even the name makes me cringe. But that’s what I want to embrace, I guess.

[31.12.21] Friday, 5:40pm

Today’s such a jumble of thoughts. I’ve caught my mood swing as it hit, and below this are at least five unfinished, unrelated sentences. How should I use these?

(These entries are long. I think I’ll turn this into a scrollbox.) (and sorry daisy this entry is long)

I’ll figure it out as I write. Happy New Year’s Eve, and here’s to 2022. I haven’t felt much by way of holidays or celebrations this year, and winter has been no exception. Christmas was as mundane as it gets, and I don’t think I’m carrying the spirit of a new year’s resolution with me today.

But If I had to choose one, it would most likely be something… self-care. Not mindless indulgence, rather, further recognizing when and where I need to rethink. I’m… actually really proud of myself so far. I’ve realised that allowing yourself to wallow in misery is perhaps good for inspired literature, but not so much for healing the soul. And it is healing. I am disabled, and I do not use that term lightly, nor usually in terms of people able-bodied, but the more I return to it the more it rings true. Mental illness can be life-threatening, but ultimately, treatable and curable. The same does not go for conditions such as mine, where I must try five times harder than the average - allistic - person to not only adapt, but survive. I must keep reminding myself that I cannot physically hold myself to those standards.

It’s going to come to me soon, but for now I cannot for the life of me remember what sparked this. I think it was something concerning my environment at college… How I disliked waking up late, and looking like a mess for school. I… That was a factor, but the real one slipped my mind. That’s irritating.

I don’t know if I’ve remarked on this already, but being so free of social anxiety means the world to me. It still haunts me, god, it does - Why do the most humiliating things always happen to me? - but it’s so much easier to talk to myself now. The biggest thing for me is the smaller things. Those people aren’t laughing at you for going up the wrong stairs - what kind of boring life is that? Plus, how would you even bring that up as a joke? ‘This stranger went up the wrong stairs. He looked so embarassed. Isn’t that funny?’ Telling my younger self something like that wouldn’t have resonated with me at all, though.

It’s easier to balance my mindset and I feel healthier, but I’ve forgotten why.

I never realised how many precautions I’ve begun to subconsciously take. The curtains, in winter, are always shut before 4pm: done so before I even realise. As soon as I hear or see or think of something nostalgic, I immediately distract myself. Getting dressed - nothing with long sleeves, nor skirts. I’ve begun to associate being clean with being happy, and I think that’s powerful.

Ah, some severe rambling today. Chronic. I just wanted to try and articulate why I meet nostalgia with such horror… I can’t begin to think why. Hearing an old song specifically attached to a time makes me feel physically sick - even if that time was great. Even if it was completely fine. It’s such a shame… I can’t enjoy older songs, no matter how much I try.

I felt resentment today. Part of the reason I feel so alienated from my peers is because of the way I was treated when I was younger. I had no cousins nor siblings my age, and always - every time - I was treated like such a small child. I was so sheltered. It’s pathetic, really, just the small things. I was never taught how to do things like makeup - the same way I was never allowed to pick out my clothes or experience any sort of independence at all. These are about as good as problems go, I’m aware. But I really am a child.

I woke up this morning to welcome a familiar sense of dread. Waking up today, exactly the same as I did yesterday, and the day before that. I was able to distract myself, and I’ve distanced myself even now, but realising that the holidays are coming to a close and the ‘days are running out’ is a common experience for me. It doesn’t hold the same weight as it used to, and for that I am once again glad. It used to be all-consuming, both an obsession with making my time ‘worth it’ and a completely inability to do anything about it.

I think I should start taking further note of my ‘triggers’. Some days it’s hard for me to remember, to write at all, and I will no doubt forget as I do with every other commitment. But there are repeating themes, so perhaps I can work something out there.

This is moderately embarassing, but here’s a singular extract from my ramblings earlier:

I know I’m not thinking clearly. I believe that’s a step foward. But I still like to indulge myself in such sadness - If I cannot complain, who am I?

My family planned on moving to Australia. We’d visited previously, to see our other side of the family. We were refused because we’re autistic.

I’ve never been one to enjoy the beach. Not to say we have any worthwhile beaches here anyway, but - all I can remember is cold wind, harsh sand. Salt that follows you for days on end. Muddied, opaque water that runs ice around the ankles and settles in your bones. My family have always enjoyed such endeavours; they enjoy England, with its bracing weather at best and wet misery at worst, and it frustrates me to the point of tears that I cannot understand why.

Well. Pleasant. I’m not sure if my emotions here carry through text.

I’m replaying Persona 5 (Royal) at the moment, and such a game is so dear to me. But, as I revelated while writing this very sentence, it’s moreso a desperate attempt to cling on to something that will occupy my time adequately. I don’t enjoy replaying the game for the simple reason it’s repetitive, and yet I would give anything to play it again for the first time. I would much rather attach myself to a halfhearted interest than feel… that… again.

It’s despair. I think, is a way to describe it. For sure a form of depression. When I’m not hyperfixated on anything, I have no purpose. Nothing to look forward to, nor work for, nor consume, and it’s a fast downward spiral. With nothing to do, I’m aimless, meaning I’m more reluctant to do anything. Doing nothing only further makes me feel worse, since I won’t take care of myself. I can’t enjoy anything.

I think it’s hard for me to be consistent for this reason.

I don’t have anything to attach myself to, because there is nothing I can return to once I have visited it. I hate it. I absolutely despise it. I panic when people ask me what I like and dislike, what I like to do, what sort of things I do, what sort of hobbies I have. Writing this brings back that familiar feeling in my chest, I think my eyes are prickling. It’s claustrophobia.

Because I cannot consume media in moderation, it will become the basis of my personality and root of my mind. Once I have subconsciously decided to drop it, for no reason at all, what is left? It humiliates me to think back on it. I can’t believe the way I acted. I can tell when people are uninterested and yet I still continue. Fuck. Am I doing that now?

I think that’s… everything on my mind for now. Remind to add a word of the day and a scrollbox.

[29.12.21] Wednesday, 10:57am

I don't know why, but this site suddenly crossed my mind. It's been a while, I suppose! Today is Wednesday, and I've been enjoying my winter holidays so far. Not including today, I have four days left. Some have been bad, some have been good - but I'm doing okay now!! Well, partially. I shut Mollie (my cat) out last night for the first time in forever because she threw up on my carpet - but I couldn't sleep at all last night. At all. I was energised at first, but now the tiredness is hitting me in waves. It's unpleasant.

Anyways, I've been keeping a video diary more frequently! Just in Photobooth with my shitty Mac camera, but I find it really endearing. I'm half-tempted to post them, but I know that would be crazy. What if people download them? I'd have to censor names and locations too. But I do love them! Watching them back is entertaining. One I made recently in a super good mood felt like a sleepover. Plus I looked pretty. I wonder if Cass ever remembered this website.

Anyways, you know how it goes - 'I should probably revamp this haha!' Yes. You should. This is the most unflexible thing ever created.

Stuff has been on my mind. Namely, being trans. I feel like I've completely given up on it, and I feel both ashamed and ...not...sad? I feel like it's because I believe it's an unachieveable dream. I would be entirely ugly as a guy, and as someone who relies on male validation and 'feeling pretty', I've been embracing my feminine side with force. Using both names, and calling myself a girl. I gave up, so my friends gave up too. For the most part. They're good. I love them. I just never experienced dysphoria, only euphoria, and under very specific circumstances. I believe it's probably just my autism, and the whole 'transcending gender anyways' mentality - I never really internalised the gender binary anyway, so...? Even if other people will still categorise me as such. I also feel like I could really never achieve what I truly want - almost like a videogame, where I could 'save' my transitioned persona and 'load' others. I would dislike permament changes immensely. I'd die to be TRULY androgynous-leaning-male, where literally nobody can tell what the fuck gender I am, like AT all, but I don't have the physique nor mentality for it. A shame.

I'll look over this website in horror before giving up and playing Sims, probably. Seeya.

[23.11.21] Tuesday, 1:33pm

Wow, today's been a long day - and I've only just come in on the 12:40 train. Trains were cancelled this morning, but holy shit, I'm exhausted. I slept around 6 hours in full last night and I'm honestly so weak and struggling to stay awake - I think I'm ill. My throat's dry too. Don't worry - I took a test today, I'm covid free! But regardless I feel terrible. Sigh. I just have to get through Psychology last period and I'm free. Gonna be a struggle though.

But I am kind of worried about my classes. Missing them continuously or without a good enough excuse makes me anxious. I'm starting to lose interest in them too. My friend doesn't help - xe doesn't seem bothered about the work due to missing lessons, nor keeping up/doing work in general. Don't get me wrong, it is very like me, but it concerns me too. I suppose I find it hard because there's no tangible results for my work, like a grade you have to keep up with in America. I think I would prefer that, rather than what we have. I may mention this to my tutor. She's so lovely.

But on a lighter note - the realm is going amazing! Yesterday there was 5/10 of us on there, and there may be even more today. We had a full voice chat, and it was great. I'm looking forward to it tonight.

[19.11.21] Friday, 9:30am

Hiya! I'm in the public library right now. It's probably been like... IDEK how long. Looooads has happened, but I won't elaborate right now. I'm keeping a video diary, so hopefully that will provide some clarification! Since I do tend to forget. I called Chloe, Daisy and Morgan yesterday... it was super fun!!!! I'm so glad the server's going well, and I'm excited to play again tonight!! Like, super excited. I need to clean my room desperately though... and send that computer model to my mom. Fingers crossed I won't have to go out this weekend, everyone, please...

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