This is a shitpost.
I watched Luckiest Girl Alive on Netflix recently, and one of the lines that hit me hard was, "Write it like no one will ever read it." The first time I heard it, I felt on fire to pop out post after post. After the second time, it suddenly felt more personal.
Do I really think that no one's going to read this? That's a load of bull. This is the blockchain. But sure, let's pretend I'm shouting into the void. I need one right now. Maybe you're feeling the same way. You're free to join the shouting.
I would like to think that I have a good grip on myself. Calm and collected. Logical.
But, my god, all hell breaks lose every single time I start feeling more than I could handle. And for that, I have been throwing hate on myself lately. I have hated myself a whole lot for the past few days - or weeks. Insecurities about numerous things start showing their ugly heads. Lots of self-talk and cursing in the air involved. Lots of, "what the fuck are you doing?" And all other variations of the same question. Nearly quit writing. Nearly quit trying anything at all.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not sad. I've genuinely been happy these days.
What doesn't sit well with me is the irrationalities that come with feelings. Anything that could cause fear, anger, and disgust can turn me into a walking time bomb. Not because they're negative feelings but rather because I do not understand the reasons why they're present. Why are they so hard to dismiss? Am I supposed to sit with them and talk about what's happening? They can piss off.
Ironically, I can listen to other people talk about their feelings, but I can't handle mine well.
I have been trying to listen to all sorts of music to simmer down. If that does not work, maybe doing some workout routines could do the trick. Options A and B are unhelpful?! That's fine. I'll bottle it all up! And then wallow in the shame of it all until I decide that I could swallow my pride and talk to someone I trust.
Punching walls used to be my favorite, but I am trying my best to stick to harmless solutions even if my head tells me there are more unhealthy ways to cope. I will never go back to the days when I used to run my thumb over bruised knuckles no matter how tempting the thought is. I will be clear that I want to be gentle with myself. I still want to live longer and do stupid things I can laugh about when I grow much older.
Apparently, I'm stuck with bottling everything up. I could go on for days and days trying to rationalize these emotions and get frustrated that I'm getting nothing from it. Shutting myself out from everyone is starting to be a scary possibility and I hate it.
I hate how navigating around this concept is such a pain in the ass for me when it isn't that hard. I hate that I'm asking so many whys and hows when I can just let it run through me. I hate that I consider my moments of vulnerability as huge weaknesses. I hate that I can't handle this on my own. And I hate that I hate myself right now.
I honestly don't know where am I even going with this. Maybe feeling will never be my strongest suit and staying snarky was the best route, to begin with.
Or maybe, I should stay on course and be patient with my dumb ass for a change. I'm lucky enough to have a partner who's willing to hold my hand through it all. I'm lucky enough to have other people I could trust, too.
For now, I will acknowledge that this is some tough shit and I am fucked. But not for long. I hope.
Hop on to your next agenda. This was a shitpost but thank you for stopping by.
PS: Go get a therapist if you need one. And don't forget your meds.
