the art of memorizing the pattern on every ceiling (from an expert)

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As I rummage through my many notebooks in search of material to write about, I try to be conscious of how each entry makes me feel. Occasionally, some entries come with violently strong associations to very specific memories. The following is a retrospective on one such entry from last year. Time has passed since then, and I am proud to say that my current self is much better off.

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i am ashamed to admit that i used to be a very bitter, very angry person. i was angry at the world, angry with myself, the people in my life, my work... the list goes on and on and on. instead of taking all of this anger out on others, i took it out on myself. this, unsurprisingly, affected the way i was perceived, which made me even angrier. i felt that nobody saw me as anything but a broken, unlikeable person, and in turn i made sure to prove their point. i told myself that i was fundamentally unlovable - a monstrous body wandering aimlessly on a foreign planet with nothing to show for it. 

self-destruction isn't romantic or picturesque- it's ugly (and very obvious). even though i would never admit that i was struggling, it was clear that this anger was creeping into every aspect of my life. every decision i made was informed by the overwhelming hatred for myself that i had let fester. i don't much like the phrase "cry for help", but my behavior was becoming difficult to manage.

unfortunately, it is much easier to take advantage of someone when they are in a vulnerable state. i don't blame myself for the nasty string of relationships that followed, but i can say with confidence that i was not looking for love. i truly didn't care what anyone did to me - in fact, my destructive habits got worse. and more often than not, these behaviors were actively encouraged. mania looks a lot like spontaneity, drunkenness like happiness, and attention like love through rose-colored glasses. i exhibited a pattern of whirlwind relationships punctuated by grand declarations, religious devotion, instant regret, and finally (and perhaps most damning) complete apathy and disinterest. 

i let myself be treated like an afterthought - my body broken, my senses overwhelmed, i was slowly rotting from the inside out. but this was what i wanted. i thought that if i was burnt up, ugly, and used, it would be easier for them to leave me be. illogically, i also craved the attention i was given when i was out of control. desperation has a certain attraction, after all. and i so stayed in these situations because i was afraid of change. the person they know is the person who is so willing, so easy, never pushes back, never refuses an advance. i would continue this cycle with another until one of us got bored, or too comfortable (read: too like a real person). i could keep from falling apart as long as i was constantly in motion. i didn't have time to process, and that was comfortable for me. in rare moments of lucidity i would almost regret my actions. this regret spiraled into resentment, which turned into hatred, which i promptly turned inwards. rinse and repeat. 

eventually, i went from trying to die to thinking about dying to not actively wanting to die, but no longer wanting to exist in the life i was living. i hated myself for what i was doing, but i was comfortable with this hatred. this is all i had ever known - and as time goes on it becomes more and more difficult to crawl out of the person-shaped hole you dug so carefully.

but here's the catch - nobody is coming to save you. there is no white knight, no cry for help, no divine force that can make you secure and happy and safe. it is up to you to ask the universe what it plans, and up to the universe to provide. but you first must ask for a ladder.

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ANYWAYS: Entry #2, dated 07/21/2024

Until Next Time

It seems unfair of me to ask you this

But they say love is selfless (Or is it selfish? I can't keep track anymore).

I am trying hard to kiss like a normal person

but what can I do?

Sorry I missed your call. This was the only time I could get back to you

but I'm sure you already know 

that I leave precious, rotting things sitting out on the counter for too long.

Pardon my appearance. If you really must know

I have a talent for ruining things by saying them out loud.

I'm sorry for the way that I acted; it will happen again.

It's not as though any of this really matters - 

do not confuse attention for affection

or desperation for love.

Luckily we can be wrong and stupid and cruel

but just this once

and only with each other.

Try not to worry about it too much -

we'd have gotten it right eventually.