Yes, I realize it's been a week or so since I've last blogged. I apologize for that, I just simply couldn't write anything.
Someti- Okay, a lot of the time, I find it extremely hard to write. No matter how much I rack my brain for questions and answers and thoughts I need to share, sometimes nothing comes to me. Sometimes, I don't want to share what I think I want to.
Sometimes, I'm not sure I want to share anything.
But I do it anyways. If I died tomorrow, I want someone to know what went through my head. Sure, I don't share everything with people, and a lot of things that exist in my head will stay with me to the grave, but sometimes I need to share if I don't want to, and sometimes I need to NOT share when I want to. It's all about figuring out which information I really think people care about. I get so little feedback on the blog (a.k.a. few readers) that sometimes I wonder if anyone cares passed the first line. But eh, that's attention-whore whining. It's not my concern. I can give people a link, it's their choice to follow and stay. Free will exists, sadly.
But enough about personal blog-related grievances. That isn't why you came. Hopefully. If it is, sorry to disappoint, give me feedback. I named this post Thoughts, and I'm not sure why. I will be completely honest, it was called "Days." before I starting typing the line where I pointed out the obvious. I guess it IS about personal blog grievances and whatnot. I just think too much, sometimes. I over-analyze. A lot. I worry a lot, too. It's just something I do, I guess.
Thought is kind of my ... escape, you could say. I trap myself inside my own head so that life goes on around me without a notice or thought from me. I avoid life within the confines of my skull, simply because it's easier. Not necessarily happier, or faster, or better. Just easier, and ease is subjective; I think it's easy because I'm in the situation, that's all there is to it.
I can't think of much else to talk about the confines of myself without actually having to go in there and figure the place out. I just go there, I don't explore. It's easier that way. So I'm going to give a brief follow-up for continuing readers:
Some of you may remember my blog about a month ago about Alex. I still think about him. I can eat, I can sleep (with effort), I can live. Suicide is no longer an overarching, prevalent thought that clouds my mind day-in, day-out. I'm functioning again. I still have a gaping hole left inside me. I might recover one day, I might forgive myself. But it's been over five weeks, and I still can't decide whether I want to recover. I definitely can't forgive myself. I can still remember the words, clear as crystal. Including the ones shared with me after his death.
It's pretty evident he loved me. Alex wasn't the type to love many people. Why do I lose all the people I build the strongest, quickest bonds with? This is the second person to be stolen from me shortly after we bond quicker than super glue. I often fall asleep, wondering if I'm forever meant to be at arm's length with everyone. I just can't figure out why. Everyone who clicks dies or is in some other way incapable of continuing communication. Everyone I let in normally gets pushed back out. Everyone I don't give a flying shit about gets the equivalent of a ten-tonne nuke dropped on them should they cross me. So, people are either stolen, pushed, or kept away from me. But why? I know I'm not supposed to ask questions... but I really want this answer. Why is it completely impossible for me to let and keep anyone close? If anyone can answer, I'd love to hear.
Another note, about the people leaving me. The count is still estimated around six. I finally went through my phone and got rid of most of them. One is an "on hold" person, one apparently still wants to try talking despite hating my guts, and the third one has my number and wants me to keep his but doesn't really want to talk. Maybe I should just delete them all. Maybe I should just delete everyone. Re-build the technology aspect of my life with the people that matter to me, not the people that want to matter. Most people don't matter. A few do. I slowly feel myself pushing some of them away.
I hate it. I hate it so, so, so fucking much. I wish I could stop, change this monster-esque thing I've become. I wish I could stop destroying myself, and stop being my worst enemy. I'd like to change, but it's oh-so comfortable to stay the same. Comfortable and painful. Unbearably so. I'll push you away, I know I will. Give it time. It'll come. Please don't let me.
"Leaving all the things that you love is a must just to find out who you are. I'd rather be out on my own than sinking deeper into a place I can't escape." No Saturation by Halifax
Someti- Okay, a lot of the time, I find it extremely hard to write. No matter how much I rack my brain for questions and answers and thoughts I need to share, sometimes nothing comes to me. Sometimes, I don't want to share what I think I want to.
Sometimes, I'm not sure I want to share anything.
But I do it anyways. If I died tomorrow, I want someone to know what went through my head. Sure, I don't share everything with people, and a lot of things that exist in my head will stay with me to the grave, but sometimes I need to share if I don't want to, and sometimes I need to NOT share when I want to. It's all about figuring out which information I really think people care about. I get so little feedback on the blog (a.k.a. few readers) that sometimes I wonder if anyone cares passed the first line. But eh, that's attention-whore whining. It's not my concern. I can give people a link, it's their choice to follow and stay. Free will exists, sadly.
But enough about personal blog-related grievances. That isn't why you came. Hopefully. If it is, sorry to disappoint, give me feedback. I named this post Thoughts, and I'm not sure why. I will be completely honest, it was called "Days." before I starting typing the line where I pointed out the obvious. I guess it IS about personal blog grievances and whatnot. I just think too much, sometimes. I over-analyze. A lot. I worry a lot, too. It's just something I do, I guess.
Thought is kind of my ... escape, you could say. I trap myself inside my own head so that life goes on around me without a notice or thought from me. I avoid life within the confines of my skull, simply because it's easier. Not necessarily happier, or faster, or better. Just easier, and ease is subjective; I think it's easy because I'm in the situation, that's all there is to it.
I can't think of much else to talk about the confines of myself without actually having to go in there and figure the place out. I just go there, I don't explore. It's easier that way. So I'm going to give a brief follow-up for continuing readers:
Some of you may remember my blog about a month ago about Alex. I still think about him. I can eat, I can sleep (with effort), I can live. Suicide is no longer an overarching, prevalent thought that clouds my mind day-in, day-out. I'm functioning again. I still have a gaping hole left inside me. I might recover one day, I might forgive myself. But it's been over five weeks, and I still can't decide whether I want to recover. I definitely can't forgive myself. I can still remember the words, clear as crystal. Including the ones shared with me after his death.
It's pretty evident he loved me. Alex wasn't the type to love many people. Why do I lose all the people I build the strongest, quickest bonds with? This is the second person to be stolen from me shortly after we bond quicker than super glue. I often fall asleep, wondering if I'm forever meant to be at arm's length with everyone. I just can't figure out why. Everyone who clicks dies or is in some other way incapable of continuing communication. Everyone I let in normally gets pushed back out. Everyone I don't give a flying shit about gets the equivalent of a ten-tonne nuke dropped on them should they cross me. So, people are either stolen, pushed, or kept away from me. But why? I know I'm not supposed to ask questions... but I really want this answer. Why is it completely impossible for me to let and keep anyone close? If anyone can answer, I'd love to hear.
Another note, about the people leaving me. The count is still estimated around six. I finally went through my phone and got rid of most of them. One is an "on hold" person, one apparently still wants to try talking despite hating my guts, and the third one has my number and wants me to keep his but doesn't really want to talk. Maybe I should just delete them all. Maybe I should just delete everyone. Re-build the technology aspect of my life with the people that matter to me, not the people that want to matter. Most people don't matter. A few do. I slowly feel myself pushing some of them away.
I hate it. I hate it so, so, so fucking much. I wish I could stop, change this monster-esque thing I've become. I wish I could stop destroying myself, and stop being my worst enemy. I'd like to change, but it's oh-so comfortable to stay the same. Comfortable and painful. Unbearably so. I'll push you away, I know I will. Give it time. It'll come. Please don't let me.
"Leaving all the things that you love is a must just to find out who you are. I'd rather be out on my own than sinking deeper into a place I can't escape." No Saturation by Halifax
Keep writing, because one of your six is reading.
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