it's 6:19 in the morning on boxing day. ive been picking at a scab beneath my hair on the right side of my head for the past several hours, and days. i've been prone to getting these for the past handful of years, and i always picked them away, probably at great detriment to the health of my scalp. i don't care though, it's a consistant source of pain that fades away as quickly as i want it to unless i'm in the shower. if i wish not to endure the headache and potential brain damage in the long-term of slamming the hell of my hand against my skull, i can just dig into those scabs a little bit harder. typically i will not shower on the days where i pick at these scabs the most because my head hurts and i also feel bad. showering makes me feel better, which is probably why i haven't been doing it much as of late. i feel as if i don't deserve to feel better or clean or anything but shitty and a fucked up slob. i stay up into the latest hours of the morning possible as another form of self harm. i torture myself with conciousness because the only thing that feels worse than it is having to spend hours waking myself up the next day so that i can do anything but lay in a bed, which has been remarkably difficult to accomplish over the past while. i can barely leave my bed before work, and when there's no work i only really get out of bed when my friends invite me to play a game with them.
it's remarkable that i can hold any job in these conditions. it's remarkable that i'm still alive frankly.
that's a tangent worth following- this christmas was bizarre to say the least. it's largely because of the things i've described in previous writing, how for since the age of 11 i hadn't planned on getting to 18 years old, or at the very least getting there and killing myself shortly afterwards because at that point i would have *won*. there's nothing more to do! i'd be revered for this, the saddest person in the world didn't die as a kid, and their death is therefore unremarkable and honestly not that sad to be honest.
i almost cried right before they left to drop off a gift for my mom. i couldn't believe that anybody would be willing to give me *gifts*. what did i do to deserve all this! why are you being so kind to me?
more distressing is the kindness isn't actually directed at me, and i have to remind myself of this when i ever feel the slightest bit of love towards my father, and i realize that this love is worthless, because he sees me as an entirely different being than i am. still, i appreciate all he's done for me materially, i've lived a comfortable life--that i don't believe that i deserve at all--and i was able to take a gap... year i hope, without really any pressure to have to change something about how i'm living my life too quickly. which isn't necessarily good, i'm actually really fucked up right now. i'm scared. i'm really really fucking scared. like i have 3 years left (rough estimate), i don't know what i'm going to do to pass the time that isn't asolutely miserable, i don't know what my goal is, there's no school to look forward to, there's just
WAITING
the cool thing about planning on dying before i can finish college is that i don't have to worry about the debt. it'll be on someone's head eventually, but it's not my problem at that point. i'm going to community college anyway, whoever carries that weight won't feel an ounce of pain on their back. i actually don't know how that process goes, i'd assume my family would inherit the debt. prolly normal. they can handle it, they've hurt me a lot i think. they can pay a few thousand back to a school i never got to graduate from.
i don't really know how to take out a student loan. i don't really know if anybody does, it's probably just something that happens to you when you go to college and you have to do your best to ttry and fight it.
i don't really know many things. nobody really taught me how to do anything. idk how i have a job man. i can't even know if i made my resume properly. i don't even know how to file taxes, i never got a w-2 form from my employer. i'm too scared to ask for one. they'll think i'm stupid and incompetent i can't be those things. i'm a whole adult, i know what i'm doing! i'M BETTER AT LIVING THAN YOU!!
i'm so scared.
it's painfully ironic how someone who was so desperate to reach adulthood for so long is now trapped with the mind of a child. i don't know whhy this happens to me. i don't know if it's overindulgence in nostalgia or a coping mechanism that i am both frightingly familiar with and know nothing about. really either would make sense and be thematically appropriate. i never got a proper childhood. i had one friend forever. i had parents that i didn't feel safe around. i never felt safe around my peers. i could never play music in front of a small number of people unless i pretended they would hear me, and prayed that they wouldn't hear nme. wait no it's not just a small number of people it's my family specifically. i only play the piano when they're gone. i play it really loud to make up for the wasted air when i'm not playing it. i've gotte nto play it a lot more after my mother moved away. i hate how she still tries to talk to me and i hate how i can't just tell her to stop. i can't bring myself to do it. it's been more than 4 months, why do you think i will ever love you again. fuck you.
i don't wanna be here any more. i wanna go home. i know i can always come home how can i come home. please tell me. i want to hug her and stain her clothing with my tears, why do i have to be in a world where i can't do that. where everybody around me is a human and my parents are divorced but they don't actually love me, every faint attempt at anything resembling it isn't even directed at me, it never has been. i fucking hate them, i don't care how much they've done for me i'm not asking for anything much and they don't want to meet me there. it's not even an inconvinience for them it is so much harder for them to behave as they do now than to just accept i'm trans i hate how fucking dense they are.
i feel sick
i don't feel well
this feeling isn't good
i don't like this feeling
i'm going to write the longest suicide not any person has ever seen, and they are going to weep at its beauty. my friends will probably recieve individualized ones, at least a few of them will.
i can't help but romanticize it, but how else would i cope with an inevitability. literally the one reason i haven't done it yet is because DELTARUNE IS STILL WAITING. i know my friends would be sad but like listen to me for a second.
i know it's not 'healthy', i know it's not normal either. but it's all i've got. i know it's irrational but i have to believe that a piece of art has captured my Self so incredibly well that i am entirely misplaced and i deserve to live in a fictional world as if it were real, because it is real to me already. past death, i know i will live there as myself. and things may be bad and scary but i have a group of people that i love dearly, and i can live there forever. this is heaven and heaven is here. and maybe we can play some football from time to time. eternity won't feel so long. there's so many games we can play together too.
i think what's going to happen with my website is that it will remain in a state where these writings are not easily accessible (essentially not accesible at all given the website has not been posted anywhere), while slurm will be published and a little more easy to find, though i won't link it anywhere. i'll leave the youtube videos unlisted! then i can just link them as a part of slurm. they'll read it post-mortem and it'll be long enough so that the themes come through, and if they don't i can just link a developer google doc in one of the chapters.
ultimately that's just a part of it, i've got more to say to each of them specifically and personally and not on neocities, they desrve better than a public page telling them how much i appreciate them, it will be a performance for them and them alone.
these will be really weird for them to read if they ever do.
this all sounds fucking insane.
i'm sorry you guys had to put up with me.
i think i'm only gonna end up getting worse though, and you'll be able to see that take place in recorded real time because i'll probably just keep making more of these the worse i get!
somehow it's easier than getting a new therapist