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Just a little venting. A lot of venting. Venting.
8 years ago
Hurrah! Furry drama. Nah, not really. Just a bit of rambling on about me and my feelings of late. I kinda feel its a bit unfair to people in my real life to unload my shit on to them, and I don't really have anybody to talk to. So I guess a very long, very randomly written journal to a bunch of strangers I've never met, or probably will ever meet will do. Grab your popcorn, get your soda, and sit back.
I’ve been struggling lately. Depression for me has been growing, and it’s been harder and harder to manage. I’ve been feeling lonely, tired, frustrated with everything around me. The only real thing holding me together right now is music, but even that’s starting to become…bothersome. The same songs that hold the most meaning to me are being played over, and over again, and I’m wondering how long I can get away with listening to the same song for hours.
I’ve been thinking of suicide a lot more lately because of everything. I just want to stop feeling. If I could become like a Vulcan, and just ignore everything, and be fully devoid of emotion, I absolutely would in a second. I don’t want to die. I just don’t want to feel. Sadly, you can’t have one without the other. I’ve been thinking of picking up smoking more and more lately, and it’s getting harder to not. Just because its slow suicide. Mom’s been smoking. A lot, apparently, and I can’t help but think of what it will do to her. And that’s just stress I don’t need on top of everything else.
I work all the time. Like…all the time. Mostly days, but whenever they need somebody, I go in. I never make enough money with my main, full time job, so I keep my old job as a standby, should I need more money. I make far more an hour doing inventory than I do with the store I work at, and it’s terrible. I always stress out about having money for bills, or food, meaning I spend insane amounts of cash on things I don’t need. Junk food to cope with the stress and depression mostly, because it helps. Not in the ways I want, and it’s a money drain, but I can’t help it. And buying stuff. Just…stuff. I bought a photography backdrop kit the other day. A proper, professional one. One I’ve wanted for a very long time, and yet have no use for at all, and it kills me to see it up in the living room, with little chance of ever being used the way that I want. What a waste. Just like everything else. Video games, music equipment, food sometimes.
But the biggest thing is: I’m alone. I’m so very alone. It took me just over two, full years to get over my last relationship, and realizing I’ve fallen in love with someone that I know I can never have has been eating me alive. I’ve been awake at night, staring at the ceiling, running over all my dreams in my mind over and over, and realizing why I can’t have them. It’s hard when the person you’ve always dreamed of is right in front of you, but you can’t touch, have, love…or anything. I don’t want to spend another two years getting over something like that, or longer. I’m wasting away my life in my bedroom all the time, and I know I have no real hope of another relationship, or finding anybody else I care about. I’m too shy to go anywhere, or meet people. And every time I want to hang out with anyone, they always cancel, or are busy and can’t hang out. Or they’re tired and just don’t want to.
And my bed. My expensive couch bed, that I spent almost a thousand dollars on, I wish I didn’t have. Not because its uncomfortable. Far from it, but it’s because of how big it is. How empty it is. I find myself trying to hide under my giant teddy bear, with its paw on my head, just to feel like there’s somebody there. And, as sad as this is going to sound, I often end up crying myself to sleep. I hate it. I hate it so much. I just want…someone.
I don’t sleep well either. I wake up several times a night, roll around for a bit, and fall back asleep. I sleep on average about four, to five hours every night, and stay awake for the rest. When I’m at work, I’m always tired. When I’m at home, I’m always tired, and lately, I’ve been falling asleep at my desk, and taking random power naps in bed that I don’t remember going for. Energy drinks work, but I find that I crash after an hour, maybe two if I’m lucky, and it’s awful.
I don’t know what I want from this. I don’t really want attention. I don’t want pity. I just want to vent. And get it all out in the most harmless way that I can. I care about the people in my life, far more than anyone can ever realize. So much that it destroys me inside every day. I do things for people that I don’t want to. That I just…ask to do for people. Buying food, or getting things for them, or going places for them, or anything they ask me to do. I hate it. I hate it so much. I just am a good person. To everyone I care about, because they are worth so much more to me than I could ever be to myself. I want them happy. At really any cost. And my usual way of venting I find to be more harmful to them than I want. It’s not their fault I’m always miserable and shouldn’t have to deal with me.
So…I don’t know, I think I’m just writing for the sake of it now, and I’ve kind of run out of things to say for this time around. Most of you don’t know me. Most of you, will never know me, and if you’ve made it this far, I appreciate it. I do. But I doubt it will matter too much. It’s not meant to make anyone care. It’s just a safe way for me to get out my feelings, without hurting those I care about.
I guess I should go to bed. I have work in the morning. Again. Supposed to have three days off next week. I can’t wait. This is the first ranting you guys have seen. And I can't promise it will be the last. But...maybe things will get better. I've been saying that for years though, and nothing really does.
I’ve been struggling lately. Depression for me has been growing, and it’s been harder and harder to manage. I’ve been feeling lonely, tired, frustrated with everything around me. The only real thing holding me together right now is music, but even that’s starting to become…bothersome. The same songs that hold the most meaning to me are being played over, and over again, and I’m wondering how long I can get away with listening to the same song for hours.
I’ve been thinking of suicide a lot more lately because of everything. I just want to stop feeling. If I could become like a Vulcan, and just ignore everything, and be fully devoid of emotion, I absolutely would in a second. I don’t want to die. I just don’t want to feel. Sadly, you can’t have one without the other. I’ve been thinking of picking up smoking more and more lately, and it’s getting harder to not. Just because its slow suicide. Mom’s been smoking. A lot, apparently, and I can’t help but think of what it will do to her. And that’s just stress I don’t need on top of everything else.
I work all the time. Like…all the time. Mostly days, but whenever they need somebody, I go in. I never make enough money with my main, full time job, so I keep my old job as a standby, should I need more money. I make far more an hour doing inventory than I do with the store I work at, and it’s terrible. I always stress out about having money for bills, or food, meaning I spend insane amounts of cash on things I don’t need. Junk food to cope with the stress and depression mostly, because it helps. Not in the ways I want, and it’s a money drain, but I can’t help it. And buying stuff. Just…stuff. I bought a photography backdrop kit the other day. A proper, professional one. One I’ve wanted for a very long time, and yet have no use for at all, and it kills me to see it up in the living room, with little chance of ever being used the way that I want. What a waste. Just like everything else. Video games, music equipment, food sometimes.
But the biggest thing is: I’m alone. I’m so very alone. It took me just over two, full years to get over my last relationship, and realizing I’ve fallen in love with someone that I know I can never have has been eating me alive. I’ve been awake at night, staring at the ceiling, running over all my dreams in my mind over and over, and realizing why I can’t have them. It’s hard when the person you’ve always dreamed of is right in front of you, but you can’t touch, have, love…or anything. I don’t want to spend another two years getting over something like that, or longer. I’m wasting away my life in my bedroom all the time, and I know I have no real hope of another relationship, or finding anybody else I care about. I’m too shy to go anywhere, or meet people. And every time I want to hang out with anyone, they always cancel, or are busy and can’t hang out. Or they’re tired and just don’t want to.
And my bed. My expensive couch bed, that I spent almost a thousand dollars on, I wish I didn’t have. Not because its uncomfortable. Far from it, but it’s because of how big it is. How empty it is. I find myself trying to hide under my giant teddy bear, with its paw on my head, just to feel like there’s somebody there. And, as sad as this is going to sound, I often end up crying myself to sleep. I hate it. I hate it so much. I just want…someone.
I don’t sleep well either. I wake up several times a night, roll around for a bit, and fall back asleep. I sleep on average about four, to five hours every night, and stay awake for the rest. When I’m at work, I’m always tired. When I’m at home, I’m always tired, and lately, I’ve been falling asleep at my desk, and taking random power naps in bed that I don’t remember going for. Energy drinks work, but I find that I crash after an hour, maybe two if I’m lucky, and it’s awful.
I don’t know what I want from this. I don’t really want attention. I don’t want pity. I just want to vent. And get it all out in the most harmless way that I can. I care about the people in my life, far more than anyone can ever realize. So much that it destroys me inside every day. I do things for people that I don’t want to. That I just…ask to do for people. Buying food, or getting things for them, or going places for them, or anything they ask me to do. I hate it. I hate it so much. I just am a good person. To everyone I care about, because they are worth so much more to me than I could ever be to myself. I want them happy. At really any cost. And my usual way of venting I find to be more harmful to them than I want. It’s not their fault I’m always miserable and shouldn’t have to deal with me.
So…I don’t know, I think I’m just writing for the sake of it now, and I’ve kind of run out of things to say for this time around. Most of you don’t know me. Most of you, will never know me, and if you’ve made it this far, I appreciate it. I do. But I doubt it will matter too much. It’s not meant to make anyone care. It’s just a safe way for me to get out my feelings, without hurting those I care about.
I guess I should go to bed. I have work in the morning. Again. Supposed to have three days off next week. I can’t wait. This is the first ranting you guys have seen. And I can't promise it will be the last. But...maybe things will get better. I've been saying that for years though, and nothing really does.