9-2-2025, Sunday

Today was like any other. 

Yesterday I had told myself I can waste the day hiding, I have tomorrow to do things. 

Today I spent the day in bed, as the day before, telling myself I had enough done yesterday. 

I've been too scared to move. Too scared to make a noise. I live in the screen, in dreams, in plans and hopes. The people in my house are a threat. As a young teen I experienced endless harassment from Scary. Today they may be better, but my heart, my spine, screams danger when they're near. Oftentimes I catch myself holding back literal screaming when they talk too loud downstairs. To put it clearly - my nervous system is completely screwed up, and I had been left with some major PTSD.

Despite this, I'm not too offended by my life. I cherish the simple pleasures in the privacy of my room, the little things that make it bearable. On days I feel okay enough to move from bed at all during the daytime, I block the door with an old wooden board, and I drink a cup of tea from my thermos, and I listen to my favorite playlist. I cry on the floor, or feed the birds outside my window. And it all becomes a sort of okay.

Before I injured my knee, I was able to slip out of the house before any of them awaken, and live the day outside. I'd eat instant oats and nuts and cheese, and play harmonica in a park in the next town over. I hope that soon I am able to find a doctor.

I may not live the best life, but I'm all good. I can enjoy this, because soon, I will be 18. I could sleep outside or maybe in a friend's backyard. Then I'll get into a university in a faraway country, and I'll be poor in a really tiny apartment, and I'll be safe, finally safe. I'll be okay, guys!

19:56