entry #6, 6/20/2024 7:56AM

i think all of my friends are slipping away from me like sand through my fingers. i don't think i've seriously had a conversation with any of them in over a month. i haven't done anything meaningful with them in over a month, we haven't hung out in over a month. i've reached out, but it's all just quick and short replies. that's not a real conversation. i want my friends to come back. i miss them all.

i haven't had a serious day out of the house in so long. i have only one irl friend and the last time we hung out was two months ago, and it was for less than an hour. we ate sushi and talked about math, then she dropped me off at my house. whenever we talk over text it doesn't last for more than ten minutes. i don't think she wants me around anymore. i don't think any of my friends really want me around anymore, they only think of me when i reach out to them or when we are actually hanging out. as soon as we leave call, i no longer exist to them.

to me they exist all the time. i always think of them. i want them to all be okay and i want to hang out with them all of the time, but its like i only matter when i'm helping them have fun or making them happy.

i wish i didn't care so much about everything, cause then i probably wouldn't even be dealing with these feelings, not because i wouldn't care but because i wouldn't be here anymore.

if i didn't care about my family and their feelings, if i didn't care about my friends and their feelings, if i didn't care about the wellbeing of my cats, if i didn't care about hot food, if i didn't care about art, i wouldn't fucking be here. i wish it was like that. fuck my big stupid heart, i hate it. i hate it here. i'm only sticking around because i'm too scared of pain, and too scared of hurting the ones i love. 

i've been desperately trying to make new friends and be social online, but it isn't giving me the results i want. nobody is like me, except for the friends i already have because we've just sculpted each other for years. pieces of me exist in them, and pieces of them exist in me. i can't have that with new friends, because its a long process.

when i was making friends before, i wasn't even thinking about it. when i met my closest friends for the first time, i did not think that we would remain friends for more than a decade. but now, trying to make new friends, i overthink it so hard. what if i'm not saying what they want to hear? what if i say this thing and they don't respond with something i can work with? what if we don't click? what if i like them but they don't like me? i won't be able to tell unless they explicitly tell me they don't like me, and most people think it's rude to just outright say they don't like someone they just met, so what is even the point?

i had some coffee and i don't think it's really helping me here. i just wish i could live without thinking about it so much. like fuck man. everything i do is analyzed by myself, its like i am constantly under a microscope of my own making. 

my friends are all drifting away and there's nothing i can fucking do about it. for starters, i don't even know how to stop it, and also i'm just that kind of person who's like "well, its their decision, i won't hold them back or anything. it is what it is." i wish it wasn't what it was. fuck you. i am supposed to just lay down and take it? let my friends all leave me behind? 

my brain is always going a million miles a second, but it gets stupid worse when i've been up for a while, and i can't go to sleep yet because i'm trying to fix my sleep schedule by staying up longer. i need to make it to at least 1PM today, and i've got five hours to kill.

five hours to spend with my fucking self. five hours listening to a podcast of a group of friends who seem so much closer than mine, five hours playing multiplayer games by myself with no meaningful company, five hours listening to the same song that reminds me of my best friend on repeat, five hours spiraling like this and thinking everyone hates me and i should just leave.

yknow, after writing my apology to my ex, i actually sent them an email. i rewrote my apology, better and more specific, and sent it to them. i was so scared when i hit send, i don't know why, but i almost cried. i felt good though, after i did it. i felt better than i was before apologizing for my actions, and i can think about them and what we had without crying now, so thats cool. it felt like i was finally gonna go back to normal, not be sad anymore, just be me, but better.

but i had forgotten that there hasn't been a single day since i was born where i had been better. not growing up as a small child, with my fucked up mom, and my fucked up house. i remember whenever i got hungry during the day, my mom would be sleeping off some drug trip, and i would have to feed myself. i was maybe three or four years old. i ate hot dogs, out of the package from the fridge. not cooked, or anything. because my mom had to have her fix. i just wasn't important enough for her to throw the stuff away, important enough to just get up for at least ten minutes and throw together a proper sandwich, not important enough to put up for adoption so i'd have a better chance at living.

god, this entry is getting all over the place. this is what i'm saying when my mind is just going a million miles a second. there's just so much in me.

when i was six, i had gotten taken away from my mom and put in the custody of my aunt. i only lived with her for three years, but it was good. i got actual meals, had a nice bed, a clean apartment, toys i liked. my aunt died from cardiac arrest, right in front of me. i was the first person to see her dead, i was eight years old. i know what i saw must've been terrifying because, whenever i try to recall what it, my brain can't bring it up. it was blocked out. my brain is protecting me from seeing it. i can remember everything else of that night clearly, all except for what i actually saw. 

after that, i was put in the custody of my grandma. she was the woman who "raised" my mom, and my mom fucking sucks. do i have to say more? i wasn't raised by a person, i was raised by a screen. everything i know is because of the internet. i've had unrestricted access to the internet since i was nine. whenever i got out of line, i was beaten. i hated everything, everyone, and myself, i was such an angry and sad kid. whenever my siblings got out of line, my grandma would tell me to beat them for her, since she couldn't be bothered to get out of her chair. i did it because they were smaller than me, and i had so much anger inside that i couldn't let out normally, from fear of stepping out of line. i wasn't a good person.

getting older hasn't helped either. i've had terrible anxiety since seeing my aunt die, and it used to be anxiety about dying, but now it's anxiety about living, about getting hurt, about people hating me, about not being good enough. i just stay in my room all day, never go outside for longer than a few minutes. and it fucking sucks i can't just get high and not think about it, because whenever i get high i feel guilty afterwards, like i could've used that time doing something productive, even though i don't ever do anything productive.

even doing my art makes me feel guilty. it's like i only see that stuff as a distraction from the stuff that really matters, like studying, getting a job, getting out of the house. but art does matter, and i wish i could just do it without feeling like i'm digging myself into a hole i can't get out of.

i just wanna do the stuff i love, and hang out with the people i love, and not feel bad about doing it. thats what life is about. not for little ol' me though. i have to be a fucking dick to myself.

god. blog over. fuck this. fuck you.