Warning, this will get pretty bleak and is an ongoing writing.
I think as far as adults problems go, this is easily the dumbest. Literally my one objective here is to do nothing and I have failed several times over. Ugh. I think the worst part is knowing why I do it, what makes me do it, and the psychology behind it, but still doing it.
Growing up catholic with two pro-corporal punishment parents likely planted seeds in me that pain was the only way to make things right. While I would eventually part ways with religion, and my parents would stop after a certain incident went wrong, the association I had with my own pain making things "right" never really left. Ninth grade was the last time I practiced that. But I was fully in control and could still stop when I wanted, and I did for some time.
2020 was when this habit was ressurrected. It took a few attempts but I finally found a tool that would suit me. The cause was my job. Since leaving Sonic, I haven't returned.
December 24th, 2020. My painting of life has had its blots of dark moments, but I know for a fact that this was the worst day of my life. When the news broke, I took a glass bottle, shattered it, and used the sharpest remains on myself. When the glass wasn't doing the job, I took my cheap utility knife and started again. I didn't want to be alive at that moment. I thought I had more time.
2021 was a pretty bad year as far as years go. I went through two suicide attempts and most of my prominent scars showed up here. I don’t talk about my attempts much because like, why would I spring that on someone. It didn’t work so what’s the point? Just to make someone feel bad? No thank you. To show them that I'm so incompetent, I failed at the same thing twice? Taking a raincheck there. I think around this time my eating disorder was nearly done but all in all I was a wreck. I kept the worst of the details to myself at that time. None of my friends knew, none of my family knew. The only way someone could have found out was by decoding my 2020 self-portrait.
Of the few people that did know, two were very supportive of me getting better and one told me to grow up, specifically after I relapsed.
I remember eating my thanksgiving food alone in my room and also hurting myself. It wasn't the same without grandpa. I didn't want to be here without him.
Around Christmas time I made sure to buy plenty of asprin and razor blades. I then made sure the shower was nice and hot to get the full effect. This actually hurt, like a lot, but its what I deserved. The pain meant it was working.
I made it a New Year’s resolution for 2022 not to cut anymore. January and February tend to be oddly stressful for me and i was close to failing early on. I kept this mostly on the down-low. I told a few people I really trusted about it. Something about being told, "I'm so proud of you," over that nearly brought me to tears. Why am I like this?
One day I went into a Lowes and noticed some nice looking Dewalt utility blades. I bought the knife and blade and the power of it could make a dent in parts that were previously too tough. I shouldn't have bought the knife, but it made sense at the time. If I was going to do something wrong, I still wanted to do it at a high level.
There was a point in the year where my backpack that I got for my birthday was stolen. I emptied most of its contents earlier at work but several sentimental items had gone missing. As a very sentimental person, this was probably one of the worst things that could happen. My sketchbook was gone. I documented all the good doodles so it wasn't that big of a deal. A book I borrowed was gone. This made me feel pretty terrible because I never ever want to be the kind of person who borrows things and leaves it worse off. What hurt me the most was losing this little sculpted face thing my best friend made me. Perhaps hurting myself wasn't the best response, but it was the only thing I had control over.
By the end of 2022 I was still hurting myself. It was new years, I was in the company of friends, and I still couldn’t help it. Someone knew I had snuck the knife my way and was about to stop me but didn’t want to cause a huge scene, especially since she wasn’t 100% sure I actually snuck the knife. It wouldn’t have been enough to stop me if she pursued. I felt I needed this and needed to do as much of it as possible before I stopped. It made sense when I did it. I'm a terrible friend and I did not deserve their company during that party.
I made it a New Year's Resolution, again, to not cut for 2023. January and February were hard to get through again. My close friends were super happy for me making it past the 100 day mark.
In June, I had a particularly scary attack. I don't know what triggered it but all I could think of was pouring gasoline on myself and lighting myself on fire. That was all I could think about at work and the thought wouldn't go away. Eventually, desire grew more detailed. I knew which gas station I would go to, what card I would use, and where I would light myself. I was thinking my room, my bed is so comfortable, I think I would enjoy it. Somehow, I talked myself down to something less severe, cutting. Just the arms. There isn't a shortage of long sleeve shirts at my disposal so hiding would be easy. No one has to know, no one needs to know. It's fine, really, am I not allowed to do what I want with my body? I'm not sure what compelled me to do this but I told my best friend. I spared her the severity of the details and only brought up how I was close to reaching, "day 0." She really had my back that day. If not for her, I'm pretty sure my arms would be covered in scars at this point. The crazy thing is, I did attempt to reach out to other people to no avail.
Scarily enough, there was a day when these thoughts, while less intense, did return and I successfully convinced myself to tell no one. While I made it out safe, it did scare me that I could make myself close off like that.This whole week, 09/17/23, I've thought about it. I've thought about doing it and maybe more. I know there was a weird moment Sunday where I made my peace with the idea and found the perfect spot to jump. Renee snapped me out of it at the last minute. Would I have done it? I really don't know. I was surrounded by the best people in the world and I still wanted to end it. I'm terrible. The thoughts went away the rest of that Sunday but the week didn't fare too much better. I don't want to bother my friends with this. They deserve someone who isn't constantly malfunctioning. I just need to be alone. I can't be seen like this.
Suddenly my mind feels a bit more clear. I went to several plant sales, ran five miles, dropped my cousin off at the airport and listened to the new Doja Cat album. This sequence of events is entirely out of order. I feel like a different person. Its like the person who found no other option but to self-harm has left the room. I wonder how long he will be gone? Somehow my brain has fully convinced me to not tell my friends when it gets bad. I hope they don't think I'm ignoring them. I just need to be alone.
My mood seems to have stabilized, for now. At the height of its instability, I was ready to avoid my friends for the rest of the year. I was also going to harm myself again and just not tell anyone. I don't like the idea of ever holding people responsble for my mental health or assuming someone is there to "fix" it. However, its also clear to me that I cannot fix it by myself nor can I afford to seek treatment of any kind. Pandora's box is already open so my friends know. I used to see that as a bad thing, because how irresponsible can it be to not only reveal that information, but also admit to still being "there." How cruel, how awful. Despite this, I guess I'm getting better. I'm also seeing a concert today with my best friend instead of self-isolating and wishing I had the nerve to end it so you know, things aren't all bad.
10/04/23 What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you fucking say that? You even knew to never do that. Are you fucking retarded? You must be to say that to the most important person in your world! I don't care if she asked. If its something like that you keep your fucking mouth shut! Fuck you! You deserve less! Go cut your ugly body and be an anti-social piece of shit somewhere else. I fucking hate you, I want you gone, you're not worth preserving! Do your friends a favor and kill yourself. Your c-grade art is not worth the trouble of staying around. They were right you know, your scars are ugly, you are ugly, and no one in their right mind could ever love you.Your friends can't wait forever for you to get better, whatever that means. Grab the utility blade and do it. DO IT! DO IT YOU FUCKING COWARD!!! I'M NOT ASKING! DO THE ONE THING YOU'RE ACTUALLY GOOD AT AND SELF-DESTRUCT!!
During a run I stopped by the tracks, waiting for the train to clear. I went closer and closer until I was five feet away. I wanted it. Under Pressure was playing and something about the last verse hit me. I won't type it out but it made me think that if I did it, everyone would know instantly. Even if I do 100% deserve it, and I do, there is something cruel about letting the news echo to everyone. It needs to be quiet, I do not deserve attention. I do not want to hurt people anymore. How do you eliminate a deep sickness quietly?
Renee is having a big picnic next week. I do not want to embarass her and her friends with my lowly presence. Surely they'll have plenty of art to go around without me. I have nothing to contribute because I am a sickness. How do you cure a sickness?
They were right about everything. I am disgusting, my scars are repulsive, I am undeserving of love and warmth. I couldn't even hug Renee because I felt so repulsed in my own body I didn't want to disservice her by making any sort of contact. I don't know how I can continue to live like this. Things have gotten worse. Am I going to make it to 2030? I don't know. I can't be with people, I can't be by myself. I can't keep living like this. Finish the super projects, then see if you still want to kill yourself. Frankly, you should so the world can move on sooner but clearly these modes of friction are stopping you from continuing. Finish the projects and then we can think about setting you on fire, or jumping off the bridge, or whatever crazy flavor of the week thing you have in mind. You really shouldn't have cancelled that one project you pathetic fucking faggot.
10/16/23 My mind has finally started to clear up for the first time in what feels like months. It might have something to do with Stef's magic chocolate. This was also our first time we've hugged. I didn't have enough time to refuse it but the inclination to refuse was also not there. It felt nice, and I felt happy to have someone as wonderful as her in my life. I never took it for granted, but my resolve feels somewhat strengthened.
10/26/23 The urge to cut hasn't resurfaced since eating the chocolate. What the heck did she put in it?
11/12/23 Since that incident in August, I can hardly look in a mirror without being filled with those thoughts. They were the only person I trusted enough to see the scars and for them to say what they said. Feels bad man. People I love have a weird way of hurting me the worst. If I can make more of myself become less, I think that would make me happier overall. That and doing a mass purge of my room, which oddly parallels the same issue I feel about my body. Those are the last remaining impedements to my mental clarity. To amend a previous thought/statement I had, in a vacuum, I'm okay with hurting and even killing myself. I see nothing wrong with it because it is my choice and my body and I can do whatever I want with it. However, I do not exist in a vacuum, or on an island. There are people I love and who I assume care about me to some extent and even if they are okay physically, it does hurt them to see me do what I do to myself. The solution is not to kill myself where no one can find me and be listed as missing, nor is it to die with the most attention given possible. Rather, the goal is to get better, that's what would make everyone the most happy, myself included. I feel like I'm better off than I was in 2020-2022, and maybe I'll get better soon.
11/23/23 The thoughts are back. I need to cut. I need to cut all of the imperfections. This disgusting form deserves it and that is all it deserves. I can't stand to look at myself, or hear my voice. It needs to die. How does my extended family not throw up in disgust when I'm present? NO ONE SHOULD SEE ME!
12/??/23 December has usually been a rough month for my mental health and this served no different. Again, I was close to doing it. Hostile messages were sent my way begging to see me and be forgiven. I should block them but I can't. Reading these messages are the closest thing I can get to self-harm without doing it. This is about what happened in August. I hope my life ends with no noise so I can stop embarrassing the people in my life. I wish my physical form didn't exist. I wish only for my art and ideas to remain, but not me.
01/01/24 Somehow, some way, I made it. A large part of it is thanks to Stef. When I start to spiral, my mind convinces me that its fine to hurt myself because no one will know and no one will care, its fine. Its a delusion in the literal sense where I believe something that factually isn't true. However, Stef has been the one thing that has actually broken through this web of delusion that pops in sometimes. Despite how hard my brain works, it cannot convince me that she doesn't care about me and wouldn't be hurt if I relapsed. Snort, the action figures, her heartfelt texts, the seashell, the robot, the sculpted face, the voodoo donut, all of her music recommendations, the art she shares and photos from her walks, going to The Barbie Movie in pink, her sharing vegan chocolates. There is a person that cares and its her, and that's made all the difference when it comes to me pulling out my knife and going at it. I don't know how to express how grateful I am that I have her in my life but I am. I suppose the ultimate form of that is getting better. Concert tickets also work haha.
01/28/24 The mom of the person who told me how disgusting my scars are, how fat and out of shape my body is, how annoying it is to deal with someone who is always in some state of broken, the mom of that person, she called to apologize. She hasn't heard from me in some time. Her kid used to always bring me up at least once in passing. She eventually asked them if something happened and said she was appalled that they could do such a thing. I still feel I deserve every bit of it but she apologized nonetheless. She's always been good to me. I could never hold hard feelings to her. Is it weird to express that I always felt grateful that she's accepted me for who I am? My own parents don't know and will never know. Maybe I saved a lot of embarassment there. They were never that accepting of my cetain lifestyle choices, but she always showed me unconditional love, even now. Love is strange.
Since going vegan I've lost about ten pounds. My mood seems to brighten when I see the numbers go lower. I probably shouldn't think that way given I used to have an actual eating disorder but whatever, let me have this. There's a small chance I can meetup with a childhood friend but I can't have him see me like this. I can't have anyone see me like this. The August incident has agitated an already terrible situation regarding my self-image to the point where I can't even do a proper self-portrait. Only a metaphorical kind or something that beats around the bush of my hideous face and revolting figure. When I'm at a mirror I can only focus on bits and pieces, I cannot look at the whole right now. Even photos taken with and by my best friend, I can't look at them, its too much. If I can keep up this pace of cutting away all of this imperfection, maybe I might get better so I can see my friends again.
While the cutting issue seems resolved, I genuinely don't know if I want to live that long. It sucks that the one out that I planned can no longer be enacted so if I was to finally be at peace, I would need an entire new plan. Time will tell what that might be. My friends won't be alone, I know that much, that puts my mind at some ease. My brain is a moth that constantly wants to light itself on fire.
02/07/24 Mood has been spiraling down at a destructive and rapid pace. Every day has felt worse than the last and I haven't experienced anything close to happiness in over a week. I don't like going for the arms but in three days I just might do that. My repulsive stomach is long overdue to be sliced. I don't want to involve my friends or anyone for that matter. I can't keep getting their hopes up like this, or worrying them. They must be sick to death already that I'm going through another episode. I don't see a light at the end of the tunnel. There's only one way out. I don't want to bother my friends for one more second about this. They have enough on their plate without this. At least it won't be a surprise when it happens.
02/10/24 I wish I could write more about my birthday, but in regards to this story, I had to tie a loose end from August. Normally, if I sour on someone, I can block them and move on like nothing happened. I can't seem to pull the trigger with this person. The only way to end things would be during one of the few times a year we actually meet up. I expressed I had no interest in seeing them this year for my birthday but they said they would be coming out anyways at our usual spot. I took the bus and walked to our meetup spot. Their eyes lit up with excitement when they saw me and approached me with open arms. God, it hurt me to do what I had to do next. I'm a real hater, and I do enjoy seeing people I hate suffer. However, I don't hate this person, but I also no longer hold a feeling resembling love towards them. I cut off their advance for a hug and cut straight to business. For my own good, we can't see each other anymore. We can't be a thing anymore. They got me the closest to relapse out of everyone in my life including adversaries and my dumbfuck brother. They restarted certain habits I had back when I had an eating disorder. I actually felt somewhat good about my body last year and they ruined that. I can barely see my friends because of this self-disgust they helped manifest. For someone I loved, or thought I loved, they hurt me in a way only someone I loved could hurt me. As I continued to tell them how they affected me, I could see the hope slowly dim from their eyes. The part of me that loved them wasn't here anymore. This was it, they would no longer contact me. It was over. The cab ride home was silent. Graciously, the driver picked up that I wasn't in the talking mood. A very nice message was left on my phone and that was enough to somewhat settle my burnt nerves and rest.
I feel embarassment and disgust for the future I thought we could have had. I feel cold and this is the feeling I must sit with for the time being.
02/18/24 I saw Renee today. I made her a gift for her birthday and I finally have the oppurtunity to give it. She's the first person I actually told about the August incident in some detail, albiet vague detail. For what little I told, it was also felt like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest. It also helps that she has a way with words. I also told her why I couldn't hug her back in October to which I was able to rectify. It also breaks my heart to hear about this stupid disease she has. She's too sweet and smart and wonderful for this. From our talk, it looks like this year's super project will be leaning towards that subject. It will be difficult but I will make it work.
02/21/24 Its happening tomorrow. I can't hold out any longer. I deserve this, there is no getting better, this has always been an inevitability. I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger.
Update: I never told Stef about this and yet somehow she interfered. Her and Chryss and near the end, Julien? Jool? Juul? Anyways, today has uplifted my spirits to a degree where I think I will be safe, for now. Initially, I planned to cut at 2/22/24 at 2:22 am. I'm weird about numbers. My brain has gotten very good at making sure I don't reach out at all. While I don't want to treat my friends like unpaid therapists, I also think they should know on some level what's going on. At least, the really close ones.
Regarding my deactivated accounts. When I'm about to relapse, or severely hurt myself, I usually shut down my social media pages. The few times I didn't I worried a lot of people by posting all the asprins and blades I was purchasing and that really wasn't cool. Plus its embarrassing to have to explain it later. Like jeez, if you're going to allude to suicide at least have the decency to stop posting. Also, if the worst happens, I don't want people to have easy access to my art. Selfishly, I want that to die too. When I spiral my mind gets really destructive. Before I reactivate it, there's a few things I need to do. For starters, I need to fix my ugly disgusting body into something I can look at. I also need to have some art ready, duh. Also, I don't know how expensive this might be or where I would even do this but I kind of need to get diagnosed. I used to see a therapist growing up but it wasn't helpful because I had a strict guideline of what I could and couldn't said which gave inaccurate readings and inaccurate help. This is going to be tricky because my parents cannot know and my brother especially cannot know. I just need to see what's wrong with my head so I can fix it. Currently I'm in a state of clarity so I can see that this isn't normal and I can't do this again. I got so lucky this time that Stef pulled me out of this spiral but I can't just rely on well-timed intervention forever. Of course, its unlikely I will actually see a professional given how things are these days but I will at least try to search for one before I call it quits. Ewwwww, I hate treating my physical form like its deserving of compassion.
03/21/24 Last month we dropped my abuela off at the airport so that she may go back to Honduras. Being at the airport is really, REALLY harsh on my brain so for the several hours I was stuck there the only thing I could think about was cutting my arms. I don't even need a knife, my nails would suffice. The scars would be more ugly but is there really a pretty scar? My stomach argues the negative. I also thought that it was nice that she got to see me before I irreversibly ruin myself somehow. Then I thought how I shouldn't think like that. Lots of thoughts all around. That was in February, and that was the last time, so far, I thought about self-harm.
Last month was my birthday. I spent the start of it at Gumby's pizza and tried to invite some people. Naturally, a lot of my friends were busy so they let me know. No hard feelings. Two however, I was rather close with in the past. They didn't confirm the invitation nor decline it, they did a third worse option. They left it on read. That did really hurt me last month. While I'm mostly over it now, once I reactivate my social media, I'm going to have to slowly dissolve them out. I don't think I'm asking too much for a yes or a no with something like this. I don't need a reason, but man, I thought you guys were cool.
I chatted with my ex a few days back an it may have been a mistake. When I reach a mental low point, my resistance to these things tend to go down. It started as a text, just to check up on me, see how I was doing. There didn't seem to be any reason to keep my guard up so I engaged. During our call I asked them what they did after that hotel lobby incident. Why did I ask that? They said walked up to the room, alone. They passed by one of the old staff members who basically saw us grow up here. Usually we would chat with them or say hi but given their distressed composure, no such chat was had on either end. They didn't bother to turn on any of the lights. They walked to the balcony and looked at the city beneath them. They thought about our previous nights spent together talking about our dreams, future, and other such things on this balcony. They thought about the quiet mornings where we would say nothing but enjoy each other's company as the sun rose. They thought about how much they missed me and how empty this all felt, alone. For the remainder of the night, they just laid on the bed and imagined I was there. There's a more detailed list of what else they thought but a lot of it so sickeningly romantic and sweet and nice that it would totally wreck my street cred if I wrote it out. When our call was closing out they hit me with the three special words that honestly, still did nothing for me these days. I paused for a moment to figure what I would say instead and that's when I heard them say, "its okay, you don't have to say I love you anymore." I shouldn't have taken that call.
I spoke with my super ultra mega best friend and naturally, she had some insightful things to say that I hadn't quite considered. Again, I hate self-compassion and self-love. Or rather, it still makes me uncomfortable at this point in time. However, in absence of that one person who I previously showered an endless amount of love towards, why don't I try that for myself. I really, really had not thought of that, but you know what, it could work. It may be hard to seperate the part of me that feels I deserve to die (and worse). However, the alternative is continuing down the same path which by all means, is a path made of quicksand. I think from here on out I will make an effort to be less derogatory towards myself. For archival purposes, my previous writings will remain unchanged, but from here on out I won't type or write out how I really feel about myself. Ewwwwwww, self-compassion feels weird.
03/30/24 This has been a pretty stressful week. Whenever I get really stressed out that one tendency seems to build. I think about it all the time. I visualize where I will go, how deep, how much force to use, how it will look when its done, how to hide it, which knife to use (Dewalt of course), and the sensation when I finally do it. Its genuinely exhuasting to keep holding this back. Its getting difficult, so so difficult. Stef's birthday is coming up and I feel that would kill the vibe if it happened any time before or during that so I'll try to hold off a little longer.
04/03/24 Emergency trip to see Deerhoof. If I focus all my energy driving to Denton and back, maybe I won't light myself on fire or cut my arm or my stomach. I invited Stef at the very last minute but I secretly hope she doesn't come because I don't want her to see me like this. Something needs to change.
Update: The concert was fantastic. Deerhoof's final song shredded so hard I thought the stage was going to catch on fire. Satomi did the cutest little dances while playing guitar. SHe also signed and drew cute pictures on my shirt. I bought a zine from them. The zine discusses their view and the idea of noise. Interesting stuff. Deerhoof has a very unique sound to them and that is very intentional. I'm so thankful for Deerhoof in general. During one of my depressive episodes, their album, "Actually, You Can," helped lift me from that slump. They came to Austin in December but I was broke. So glad I had a second chance in some form.
04/13/24-04/14/24 I'm going to preface this by saying I will not be writing about my ex from this point forth. If anything, previous parts of this long entry will be quietly erased.
Throughout the week, the thought's about self-harm has not only resurfaced, but it stayed for a long while, getting more aggressive the more I resisted it. I hate hate hate hate how my mental exhaustion with trying to resist this habit has also translated to physical exhaustion as well. I should be tired from exercise, doing chores, making art, research, singing badly to my favorite music. Not the literal act of attempting to do nothing. Do you know how demoralizing that feels? These feelings were getting bad but a phone call was about to make things worse. I knew, I just knew if I left the door open, they would come in. I didn't have the mental energy to deal with this anymore. Granted, the call was antagonstic in any way and they were quite receptive to my issues, I just couldn't continue to speak to them. They are not responsible for my poor body image, my suicidal tendencies, or any other maladapted quirk I have, so I won't hold them to that. However, by reopening and worsening a lot of wounds in August, my headspace has been damaged in a way where I legit cannot resume normal connection with them without causing great damage to myself. So, I relayed the info to them. I owe them that much, right? If they love me as much as they say they do, then there is no other way for me to get better without a more substantial break. Before hanging up, they requested a song, or rather, they wanted to sing me a song. I'm leaving several details of the call out but I'm not composed, my voice is shaking and I'm trying as hard as I can not to cry because when one tear comes out, they all fall down. I allowed the song. The song was, "You'll Never Know," which was prominently used in The Shape of Water, our movie. A movie we used to hold hands watching, we would do the little sign language bits to each other, in the first few viewings I actually got super emotional and then they got emotional seeing me get emotional and we both cried quietly like two lovesick dorks. I used to hum that song at work, sing it on my walk home, sing it while I made them breakfast, play it while we had picnics, play it during our car rides, and I even made them a card or two with the words expressing how much I loved them. I remember I used to watch videos on how to make eggs look like a smiley face like they do in cartoons and I practiced endlessly to perfect the craft for them. The look on their face when I finally made it right was one of the most rewarding things in my life at that point. Because I loved them and I like to do nice things for people I love. As previously stated in this essay, I can get delusional, especially when someone claims to love, let alone care about me. It took me longer than it should have but I eventually surrendered to their love. When I think about this transition between ambiguity and certainty regardig their feelings for me, this song is never far. This song was probably the most loaded song they could have sang, and they sang it perfectly. When they finished, they gave a cute little, "well, how did I do?" I told them they did good, but I have to hang up now. I don't know if they love me anymore. I have felt certain about that in so long. Writing this out feels like self-harm. I couldn't remain in the house like this. My nerves were on fire so I did the only thing I could and ran. I ran and ugly cried and tried not to think about anything to great failure. My brain then started to rationalize where I could cut, and how deep. Why fight it? This is who I am? To who's benefit is it that I don't lose a little blood and a little skin? Its my body isn't it? Its not like I'm hurting anyone important or someone I care about. I was in a long, miserable, losing state. When I got home, my stupid fucking brother was in the front, high and presumably drunk again, as usual. When he's using substances, he forgets I fucking hate him and he talks to me. And my reward for not being a piece of shit is sometimes I have to listen. I've previously stated that I didnt hate him but that's a lie. I hate everything about him. The fact that I have to live with this fucking loser makes me want to kill myself and hearing him talk, even worse. This talk was the last straw. If I was going to be trapped like this I at least wanted it on my terms. Then I thought about how many days I hadn't cut. Then I thought I should contact Stef. My brain told me not to annoy her but for just a moment, I was able to bypass that and reach out for help. The rational being, even if this did annoy and piss her off, she would probably prefer to know BEFORE I did it and not after. I didn't even want to bother her so I was just seeking distractions. All I can say is that she really came through for me that day. This was probably the closest I've come to a relapse and she like 100% had my back. What did I do to end up with this unequivocally wonderful force of good in my life? I don't know. I can't let this second chance go to waste.
04/21/24 After that attack, I've been reorganizing certain parts of my life to deter another attack like that from happening again. It seems to be working, but there's a lot of work to be done.
Lots of introspection was done at the art event. Various questions were written on mirrors and there was a lot to think over. Also it looks like having to see my reflection for an extended period of time will send me to spiral into a panic attack so that's cool.
04/22/24 Stef got me a gift. I will cherish this gift forever! Where I ride, this special gift will ride! I know if I was alone I would sob with joy but I didn't want to freak Stef out so I kept myself contained.
05/02/24 The life insuarance has been cancelled. Back when project sunset man was set to 100% go off, I had this in place as a bit of a gift to my two closest friends. Gift? Consolation prize? Maybe its a massive apology? Given my own personal view of myself, I think thousands of dollars of cash is more than fair for the ability to never hear from me again. A glowing net positive if you will. Hell, if there was a button to wipe my existence out and I get a free coupon to see The Shape of Water in a nice theater I would take it. I'm rambling lol. I just want the people I leave behind to have a little something nice. Both recipients have expressed that they would much rather have me not be dead than to have the money. I guess that makes sense, but my brain has a difficult time convincing me so. They both don't have a shortage of friends let alone artist friends, there are powerful algorithims that can share music that would likely resonante more than my curations, the money from this would eclipse anything I could give on my own, and the internet has more black comedy than I could ever produce. I feel I could easily be outsourced worst comes to worst. I always felt like they deserve better if not the best. Why do I have such a hard time believing there are people who like me for who I am? Anyways,much like cancelling project sunset man, cancelling the life insurance is not a guarantee I won't kill myself. This is all a gamble. However, lately, I feel it's a gamble that has had better odds than ever. I have a more clear vision of what I want, how to get there and who I want to be and I have the best people in my corner. I think things will be okay. I just need to let certain things breathe. I think it also helps that I'm at the part of the depressuve episode where I'm mad that I let things get this bad so I'm working hard to fix things. Some people don't get that. I must use this gift while I can.
05/07/24 Totally unrelated to my cutting issue but oh my god. At first I thought I was getting stupid because I've simply been unable to finish this James Baldwin book, Just Above My Head. Great book by the way, beautiful and life changing as usual. Anyways, turns out that book is just dense in the literal sense and metaphorical sense. That being said, when I read anything else, I can actually zip through the pages like magic. I feel so invigorated reading new stuff! This is incredible!
Recently I've had a bit more of a breakthrough by imagining the person I want to be. It sounds like the most stupid and obvious thing in the world but I can actually see this person and I think I know how to get there. Its only a matter of time. There's still several aspects of myself I hate, but a spotlight is on them and rather than kill the entire being, it is these aspects that must go. They must be cut.
05/24/24 Still riding that post-Cheekface high. I had a great time. I was beyond exhausted though since I had been working on this quilt since getting home, went to bed by 3 am, woke up at 7:40 (thanks Renee haha) and then between eating and the occasional break, I was nonstop working on it until 6:10. Between that and all the energy drinks my nerves felt a bit fried. I feel so fortunate that me and Renee's friendship didn't die in 2023 as the forecast has shown.
A weird revelation I had lately came from hearing Genesis Owusu's song, "Don't need you." The black dog is his metaphor for depression and in the song, he has this moment of clarity where he realizes, hey, I don't even like you, why am I even listening to what you have to say? And I guess from hearing that, it made me reflect on how antgonistic my brain can be and that when its not being helpful, I should just leave it on read.
06/28/24 (545 days) This is going to be an unorganized ramble, leave me alone lol. Its taken me a bit to process what's transpired this week. Its a lot to take in. Renee doesn't feel comfortable being my friend anymore and views the dynamic as unhealthy. When I first read the news at my desk, it took everything I had not to sob at work. My mind started to spiral and I started to think about hurting myself again. An alternate solution came to mind so I'll be good for now. I don't want to ruin the hard work I put in. In a weird way, and it disgusts me to say this, I think I'm starting to value my overall wellbeing more. I want to be better. At around ten I sent a response to Renee and unfollowed her from my main instagram. I don't have the heart to unfollow or remove her follow from my spam so I have to wait until she makes her move. Stef, bless her soul, made sure to check in with me. I will say, I am just so,so embarrassed that she even had to text her. Initially, I really didn't want to talk about it with anyone, but from our call, I guess deep down I really did. I'm so fortunate to have her. I also like that she actively challenges the bad part of my brain that hates me and also thinks I am undeserving of Renee and will never find someone like her again while I'm all too dispensible. I still need more time to process this. Since the summer after eighth grade I've considered her to be my best friend. Sure, she got bumped to second place on April 15th 2022, but second is still pretty good tbh. Every single year, since I could remember, I've wished her a happy birthday. Even during that tumultuous time 2022-2023 when I told myself not to do it, to have some self-respect, I still did it. I used to vent way too much to her but I didn't want to kill our friendship so I stopped and tried as hard as possible to deal with things on my own and just keep things to myself overall. It worked for the most part, even if it did close me off way more. I was kind of hoping we could be friends forever. I care about her, love her even in like a, "you're a super important person to me and I only want the best for you and if you hurt then I hurt" type of way. My affinity for her used to be unhealthy but I worked hard on that. I have other friends now, good friends. I never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. God, I just want to crawl in a hole and never be seen again. I don't think I can even speak to Mr. T again. He's going to be so dissapointed that I ruined things. I can't. I don't know how to be a better friend for her. How do I stop being the worst of me? I remember before I left her apartment, I gave it one good look before leaving because somehow I knew it would be the last time.
I had a nightmare about her. I was at a cafeteria eating. An Angel Olsen concert was that day and I needed to kill time. When I look up, I see the tables are full of Renee's friends. They try to look away from me. There's looks of shame, everyone is uncomfortable and wishes I would leave. Even the people I thought I was on good terms with seem to no longer like me. At the very far end is Renee, she looks disappointed. I feel my whole body tighten, I feel stressed and I can't breathe. I throw my food in the trash and quickly head out so I won't disappoint anyone anymore.
Since our friendship has ended, another depressive episode has triggered. This is the worst I've felt since my grandpa died. Everyday my mood is dragging on the one scale and I feel so suicidal that if my previous attempts didn't go awry I would have attempted already. She can't know about this. She can't know that I would react this way. That would be unhealthy. Nothing brings me joy, and the few high spots I get crash rapidly. A relapse in eminent, where no one can stop it. I'm letting a horrible evil back in my life and I will deserve this.
I had another nightmare about her. There was a gala of sorts and I was a journalist. I was doing short interviews and scribbling all the details on my pad. Eventually, Renee shows up, again, with a distraught look. She walks up to me and tells me I need to leave now. I know I had so much work left to do and I didn't want to leave but I left while trying my hardest not to cry. I walked in the quiet, dark streets for a bit until I stumbled upon a Schlotzksy's. The sign had a familiar orange glow but the building was one big, domineering, Marble block. I enter and head straight for the restrooms. I hate what I see in the mirror and completely sympathize with her request to see me out. The sides of my shirt and soaked after being clenched in fear for this event. I pull out some pills and swallow them. I think I'm dying, and everything feels colder.
I really don't have nightmares. Not since ninth grade. And now they're coming back? Why am I like this?
11/10/2024 It's been 680 days since I last self-harmed. Already passed the big 666. Am I cured? Kinda, but not really. I have more resistance built up so in the event of an attack I can actually hold off the urge with more time than the impulse can last. That's great news, right? Again, I have all the thanks in the world to give to Stef. A few other characters too but we will get to that. So, is there anything left to conquer? Also yes. But a few more things to address beforehand.
I'm, for the most part, over Renee ending our ten year friendship. I am usually one to be as mean as possible to myself and give myself as little credit as possible for things but even this baffling turn of events has me rooting for myself for once. Since this happened I have been trying to be a better communicator to both friends and other people. I feel they deserve that much. I could have used that before being told I was leading an unhealthy, uncomfortable friendship with no clear answer as to what it was that did it. The fallout from all of this had me heading towards a less than desirable path mentally which almost resulted in a relapse at best and something far more drastic at worse. Again, Stef has been the Scottie Pippen for The Bulls incredible run back in the 90's. I hate to say the friendship was doomed but it was only last year I found out about her chronic illness and only the year after I found out she's had a cat for the past seven years or so. Once big and little details like that slip through, it really is the biggest red flag for a dying friendship. Idk. Even though the internal turmoil from this was one of the worst things I've felt in my life, I'm kind of proud with how I handled things, for the most part. I think between letting things end peacefully, refunding her ticket money, and overall staying out of her life, I think I handled that well.
I've been trying to find a therapist with no luck. I hate this. I hate the searching, the rejection, the lack of communication. It makes me feel stupid. Stef seemed to be dissappointed and mildly annoyed that not much has improved on that front a few weeks back. I hate to upset her. I'm trying. It hasn't been easy, but I'm trying. I have work, I have to do all the chores, I have art to do, family obligations to fullfill, people to help, and my brother is making my life unbearable. I am trying but I am also sinking.
I patched things up with someone after our relationship seemed to be beyond repair. The original intent had a more sinister route but upon learning about the real reason why Nicole ended our friendship, it softened my approach. I don't want to go into detail but the short of it is I forgive them. I'm still recovering from the damage they inflicted on me, and they're still on thin ice for that, but we've come to an understanding.
So, things left to conquer. The cutting issue seems to be mostly resolved. Its not gone but its managed. Suicidal ideation has been shrinking. Project Sunset Man was supposed to be the big one and unless I can kill myself in a way that matters, like art, I really won't entertain the idea. Then there's my body. I've spoken to some people this year about it and every time I described how I can't look at a mirror all the way, that I have to focus on small parts so I never see myself as a whole, the more I talked about that, the more I realized how much of a problem this has snowballed to. I am going to try to talk without lumping in negative adjectives like I do when I speak about my body. Due to being busy, sick, and overworked this year, my weight is not where I want it to be. Also my family constantly giving me too much food. It sounds like a selfish complaint but my mom and brother and dad have the worst habit of piling too much food my way as a form of communication. My mom and brother are also the worst about guilt tripping if I don't eat it or let it go bad. It sucks. It sucks it sucks it sucks. Anyways, I'm going to fix that. I have a plan.
11/30/24 My brother is nearly done being kicked out. His car insurance is cancelled, his phone service is cut tonight. He hasn't paid for months. Being nearly done with this ordeal has hit me with a sudden wave of exhuastion. I didn't realize how tiring this all was. Earlier this week he went on an insane rant. As usual, he was a mix of being drunk and high. He's almost never in his right mind. One can imagine how months of this might affect him. Anyways, his rant involved saying he needed me in his life, that I'm the only one that makes him feel like he can be himself, that he needs me. I was very, very, very passively engaged in this because I needed to go to sleep so I said the usual "Okay.. uh-huh.. got it... okay..." When really, I wanted to say, "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU???? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU HANDCUFF YOUR ENTIRE WELLBEING TO ME WHEN YOU FUCKING KNOW I DON'T LIKE YOU. I ALREADY TOLD YOU WHAT TO DO IF YOU WANT TO HAVE A NORMAL RELATIONSHIP WITH ME BUT YOU IGNORED IT!!! GET OUT OF MY LIFE! I CAN'T BE NEAR SOMEONE WHO'S HELLBENT ON RUINING THEIR OWN LIVES AND THE LIVES OF EVERYONE AROUND THEM!!! FUCK YOU!! FUCK YOU!!! FUCK YOU!!!!" Something like that. Again, he was high and drunk so even if I tried to engage, none of it would get through. He also went on a weird ramble about a dream he had about getting raped. I really, really, really did not want to hear about any of it but he would not stop. We are not friends, I only tolerate him because he lives here and I did not sign up to hear this. Anything regarding rape/sexual assualt is a touchy subject for me and I could not think of a person I would want to hear about it from the least. If there is a god, he's clearly punishing me.
On a side tangent, one of many reasons I didn't attempt to pursue Nicole after our friendship ended was because I didn't want to be this disgusting, awful, negative presence in her life like my brother is in mine.
I talked about exhaustion earlier. Here's the thing. I fucking hate him. Also, I can't straight up treat him badly. In turn, I have to be aggressively neutral. He doesn't do any chores, at least regularly, so I have to do everything. I refuse to do his chores. If I had to pick up after him too I would go insane. That said, the parts I don't clean, are usually messy, moldy, and there for months on end. This extends to the kitchen, food in the fridge, restroom stuff, stuff in the front yard, stuff in the laundry room. It gets tiring. He's often drunk or high and everytime I come home I am hoping not to see him because the first thing he wants to do is talk to me. And it's often incomprehensible. He has so much hatred and bile for everyone. He calls people "npc's" unironically. He refers to women as whether they are or are not, "in their prime" which is repulsive. It's repulsive and tiring. How fucking dare someone who peaked in MIDDLE SCHOOL talk about someone like that.
This whole thing is depressing. There's not really a winner here. I asked my dad on Thanksgiving if my brother blocked him and he showed me a text from him, that day, that read, "I'll see you in hell." My parents don't really have an active relationship with my brother. They tried but it gets tiring when someone constantly wants to scream, fight, say repulsive things but has no patience to listen to what you have to say. My dad is more pissed than anything else, but he does admit, it bothers him that he doesn't have a relationship with his kid. My friends aren't fond of him, I can say that much. I can't even invite them to my house because I get scared of what he may do and in turn, what I may do if he comes close to hurting them in any way. Kaitlyn has expressed concern about him potentially shooting me as many paranoid cases tend to be. My parents have a similar concern. While I usually reassure them that it's not going to happen, and as I'm typing, it hasn't. I have never ruled that out as a possibility and have conducted myself accordingly even though, in a normal setting, I would never need to anticipate this. It gets tiring. It really does. Apathy is difficult to maintain, but its my only option, for now.
12/22/24 I think I may retire this page soon. We're actually approaching two years of no self-harming. Nuts isn't it?! The urge has never been weaker. In fact, this past novemeber and december, my urge to cut and suicidal tendencies didn't pop up a single time! Miraculous!
04/30/25 After work, I went to this shop Stef showed me once. They sell wonderful pants, rings, belts, anything really. I bought flame fishnet leggings. Its for an outfit for later. The sizing was not very specific. My main frustration when I would crossdress was that women's sizing was usually like, "normal-fat fuck" and there's never really a gray area. I remember seeing myself in the mirror and hated what I saw. I window shopped more and barely talked myself out of buying Tripp Pants. Barely. On my drive home I started to sob over how much I hated my disgusting body. This whole year has been a struggle soley on that and its too embarassing and stupid and pitiful to open up to friends about anymore. When I cut again, it will be over that. This time I will save people the hurt and not bring it up.
05/14/25 I do not care about being healthy anymore. If I am going to hate the body I am in every day I think I much rather kill myself. Sorry in advance. I really tried.
note: this is from partially from my journal I keep at work
05/30/25 Introspection time. In theory, self-harm seems pretty contained as it would only harm the person involved. In a vacuum, that's true. However, we do not live in a vacuum, socially speaking. On one level, its hurtful to see me self-deprecate and self-harm like this. On another level, its annoying. Its almost like I'm not even trying to get better, and to be honest, that's partially true. I have not taken care of myself, my body, and my mind the way I should have in order to get better. Its almost like I've been on auto-pilot. Not even auto-pilot., more like cruise control. And cruise control is great but without constant control and attention, a crash is bound to happen. Metaphorically, it did happen. I really don't see it as that big of a deal when I get hurt, but my friends do, and I think one of the worst things I've done to them consistently was show a lack of respect and care for myself. Its like I'm hurting their friend. If someone hurts my friend I immediately want to give them a knuckle sandwich with rings and a side of banana pudding (if you know you know). My friends aren't crazy like me, but I imagine it is tiring seeing me in this constant battle with myself where, again, I am going in like Muhammad Ali in "Ali v. Holmes." (if you know you know)
I think I've had all I can take of this too. If I can't fix my stupid body, my stupid brain, my stupid soul, I deserve to lose all my friends. I know I've written before about how they deserve better, and they do, perpetually, because I love them.
On Tuesday I called someone after experiencing panic attacks and overall tension to a scenario in my head that hasn't happened yet. I wasn't supposed to be in contact with this person but they were fine with it. A while back this person told me, "you're going to be sick longer than your friends have the patience for," and that has always stuck in my head and scared me and honestly hurt. They have since apologized over it and have worked to amend their actions. That said, I had to ask them what they meant by that. I mean, I have an idea, but I feel I needed to hear it from them. They explained first and foremost how that statement came out of anger and was specifically made to hurt me and they genuinelly doesn't mean it anymore and doesn't want me to still feel pain from it. They then proceeded to try to process what they meant by that when they said it. The main idea, and I'm paraphrasing here, am I using that word right, is that they get the feeling that I'm not actually trying, at least, as of late. They expressed that it's frustrating to see someone they love and care about have these issues, know about these issues, but are not doing what they need to do to resolve these issues. They made sure to specify that they did know I was making progress and was getting better, but there would be certain stretches where I wouldn't do enough or at worse be okay with certain things. They used to be super stressed out about the whole, "me wanting to commit suicide," thing but never brought it up since it was a nowhere conversation that left them sad and me indifferent (I previously viewed suicide as a morally neutral thing that only hurt me. In a vaccuum, yes, irl, no). It stung a little, but I get it. Especially these past few months. I've been busy with work, too busy and too invested. Lots of days I get too sleepy when I come home and I crash. I haven't been making a lot of art, writing, learning, coding, I barely have done much in general. While I have gotten better in a lot of respects, I haven't nearly practiced and maintained myself like I should. Was that self-harming incident entirely preventable? Yes if we're being candid. I feel like a moron for letting that happen. During the call they also mentioned that a lot of what I see as utterly frustrating with my brother, I seem to have fallen into myself. If I was calling someone I had less of a close relationship with, that would have warrented an instant hangup, but this was shockingly true. It made me want to vomit but that would not make it false. We talked more, and developed a small plan to keep me on track.
On Wednesday I hung out with an old friend at this bar/diner/game place. We had a good time but when I briefly mentioned my sunset playlist I had for recording all my favorite music he got mildly annoyed. Anything coded as "sunset" basically means preperation for dying and while he's not good with emotions, he has expressed as much that he would rather that not happen in the past. He's also had a friend commit suicide which adds another layer to this. I haven't told him about the relapse. I won't bring it up anymore to anyone unless they ask. I want him to maintain this happy vision that I'm getting better but I will also in part try to get better.
This week I sent out several emails and embarassing phone calls to any therapy place I could. The constant rejection the first go around made me feel like a worthless idiot that didn't deserve any help and I was worried this would be the case as well. Not so. My consultation to feel out what to do with me is on 6/3. I hope its inexpensive and I hope it works. But in the meantime I will try to focus on myself more.
06/01/25 Old friend had a birthday. It went well. A friend of the old friend had a side chat with me. Apparrently my old friend was worried I didn't like him anymore and had moved on. He's also happy I didn't sunset myself and still making art. Due to his cold nature there's really no way to get this information out of him which is why friend of old friend was the messenger. I frequently forget that apparently I did impact a lot of people's lives. I must get better!
06/03/25 Consultation went well. I was candid about my self-harm, previous eating disorder, my poor self-image, growing lack of motavation, my one suicide attempt and the fact that I think about it, A LOT. I was taken aback when the guy addressed the fact that my brain is very logic oriented and the fact that I have certain thoughts is just its way of "logically" thinking and problem solving but by no means did that mean it was correct, its doing what IT thinks is correct. Does that make sense. It makes perfect sense to me. Next appointment is on 6/11/25. I am feeling hopeful. I want to tell my best friend but Kaitlyn will have to suffice for now. I feel weirdly optimistic about things. Maybe I'm foolish?
06/11/25 Well, that went well. I learned some new coping mechanisms and learned a bit about my body, what makes me happy, and how to reach a certain level of peace and happiness. There's more to it but its a lot of overlapping material with the rest of this whole "journal," so I will save myself the trouble and you, the viewer, the trouble. Next appointment is 06/18/25
I suppose I can divulge a little about the session, as a treat. I learned that I do like movement, and moving. That may sound weird but it makes sense. Whenever I'm walking, running, lifting weights, doing yoga, boxing, practicing jiu-jitsu, dancing, playing sports, or just being weird, I find a bit of positivity in having my body in motion. Due to my office job and home life, its quite easy to be sedentary for too long. Now that I have been made aware of this, I will mindfully try to incorporate more movement in my life but also take note of how I feel when I am moving. This sounds so embarrassing. But if it works I will worship this forever!
On one more note, I have been making more art. I'm a little rusty but I am getting better. I need to get back in shape.
06/12/25 As I was changing into an outfit for a concert, I did start to spiral. I used the techniques the therapist said and wow, it actually stopped the episode mid-spiral. No guarantee it will continue that way but I will keep trying. For what its worth, that is quite impressive.
06/27/25 Last friday I went to get my tire patched after work since a screw had penetrated it. While I was outside the Discount Tire, I handed my keys to the charming employee and I heard cheers from the garage. Ocean Man was playing. The corners of my eyes dampened and I remembered how much I missed my best friend. She needs alone time so I haven't contacted her. I hope she's doing okay, whatever it is she's doing.
I have been reviewing my therapy notes and have been trying to practice it, basically whenever. Its been working, kind of. I just have to keep practicing. Lately, I've bumped my usual 5 miles to 7 miles. Its crazy how I much better I feel practicing the technique while running. Its lowkey addictive. I also saw a few coyotes and deer during my run. I passed the vibe check and they just watched me.
Therapy costs 100 a session. Not loving the price, and that's with insurance.
This is just a bandaid though. I still need to fix my repulsive body. While the voices are getting quieter and while I am working more on art and other various forms of expression as a sort of release, it will be all for not if I can't get my disgusting body under control.
I've been writing more in my concert journal section and I noticed, now that I'm reading and typing out all my past thoughts, how much I fear being perceived. This is specifically about nicole but it also applies to any friends of her that saw me at that embarrassing lowpoint on that fateful night. Now that I'm reflecting on it, I don't know what would be so bad about it. If they don't like me or hate me, I think they would just move on. None of them strike me as confrontational unless I actually hurt nicole (Carter and J.D have that dog in them if that was the case). I don't have any negative feelings towards them, if anything, they all seemed really nice. I don't know why I assumed they would be mean catching me in public. For the record, in the balcony area of the Mohawk, I did spot J.D during the George Clanton concert. He likely saw Snort's barbaric demise. Life has a weird sense of humor sometimes.
While it is true, I feel like the biggest tool on the planet when I use the phrase, "I'm working on myself." But I have, and its frightening to think it may actually work this time.
07/03/25 Yesterday I had another therapy appointment. I got a new breathing technique and a new, idea? Concept? Mindfullness thing? Its hard to really say what it is, but it looks like it may be able to help me. I write down the essentials from the sessions and make sure to practice it a lot. It seems to be working, but I want it to work more and better! Luckily, this stuff is easy to incorporate into a practice. I also expressed worry over potentially losing my best friend. If it is over, there's really no forcing things into place. Self-care is all I can do for now. Still, I can't help but feel terrified over her being gone from my life. I would continue to make art, I would still continue my pursuit for tattooing, I would still write funny stuff and hopefully make a comic someday, all of that doesn't end with her. But man, I would feel so, so, so, so sad about no longer being able to share that with her. (as I'm typing this out I can feel tears building up. I hope they don't release because once they start they don't stop and I would be mighty embarassed to be seen like that. I have never cried at work, EVER!)
Tomorrow is Kaitlyn's birthday. I'm going to focus on finishing her gift. I haven't seen Kaitlyn in weeks and I really miss her. We text all the time but that's not quite the same. I also miss Ruby and Remi, her cats. Lately she's been really busy.
Me and Nate from the Kick John Mayer in the Nuts club have been in touch a lot. I'm so grateful to have someone to talk to about music, dumb music, silly incidents, music videos, Poppy, and just work in general.
Earlier in the week I had a bit of a freakout so I called an old friend from Colorado. They have been so helpful to me while I've been getting help and its so weird that now there's a part of my life where I'm actively talking about getting better and going to therapy. Normally I would feel embarassed but with them in particular, I haven't felt shame or judgement with them. As for the freakout, they helped me reach a stable headspace. I will admit, I did sob when they told me, "don't worry, even if it doesn't workout I'll still be your friend." If you told me last year that this would be our friendship dynamic I would call you a bitch and a hoe. (iykyk)
Expanded on that, I did get to see Colorado friend briefly last month. Our meetup had quite the rejuvenating effect. As usual, we walked and talked on our secret path. Eventually, we arrived to a field and decided to lay together and talk more while watching the stars. I cherish our moments where we catch up. They're almost at a place where they can start dating again. They deserve to be happy, I hope they find someone. Sometimes I wish I could be that someone. They've made substantial progress since last year, it's miraculous to see the person they've become before my eyes. Their fingers always lightly tap mine whenever we hold hands and talk about memories. I don't think they're consciously aware that they do that. I want to believe that because that reality is more adorable. They really want to see me get better. I hate that I let them and many others down for so many years by not taking my mental health more seriously. That will change, it's already changing. When we returned to their place, we drank cold blue powerades on the couch in silence. Without looking, I could feel them smiling. It was as if their joy was radiating like a heat lamp. They were the happiest they had been in a while, and so was I. Our fingers were now intertwined and my thumb was gently rubbing their hand. I am conscious that I do that and why I do that, and its because I feel happy and safe with them. Year two of no longer being a couple is on the horizon, but our chemistry seems to be eternal. Eventually, I had to leave their place to go to work. I told them I loved them and promised I would get better. So far, as I'm writing this, it looks like the promise is being kept.
I haven't been to a concert in weeks. That changes on the 13th. I'll be meeting up with the same friend who had the birthday on June 1st. He's the same one who went with me to Allie X when I couldn't get anyone else to go. It should be fun. I kind of wish he would drive so I could get drunk but logistically, it would be more beneficial if I drove. I could totally presssure him with the fact that I bought the tickets but I don't want to be like that to him, or in general.
Last time I cut myself, the blade was dull. The damage was not to my satisfactiion. I don't want to continue but also I am annoyed at how "incomplete/unfinished," it feels. I really want to go to Home Depot, buy a replacement blade, and finish it and then stop. That idea, of course, is ridiculous and I will try to the best of my ability not to do that. I do have replacement blades at the house, but I can't find them. After the last relapse, I'm not sure whether its better to be honest with people and let them know where I'm at or if I should keep it to myself. I think I will keep it to myself unless someone explicitly asks.
07/10/25 No big attacks this week. Since my last appointment I've been making sure to practice everything I've learned daily. I know it should be obvious but I never thought about all of these self-care actions as a practice before. Things are certainly getting easier in that regard. I'm actively making more time for myself to draw, journal, just whatever so I can process whatever happened in the day. Its nice. While I do like to share, and I do frequently, I like how a lot of these doodles and reflections are a huge secret. Kind of reminds me about what Sentimental Trash used to be. Speaking of.
I have started to avoid instagram more. I'll go every now and again since its the only way I can connect with a few people, but lately its been too stressful. The reason is stupid, so I won't type it. Not for you dear reader. Before leaving I did make sure to make a small post for Kaitlyn who recently had a birthday. Its embedded with several inside jokes.
Expanded more regarding my instaspam, I finally blocked nicole and her art account. The accounts would frequently show up in my search results as if we were still friends and it would make me sad every time. They would also appear in the "accounts to follow" section. sigh. I do not need that in my life and given how she has never spoken to me again after 6/25/24, I doubt she cares too. I'm going to be a little mean for a moment, okay? Okay. Her art account is basically dead right now. I would like to take complete credit for its demise. I didn't really do anything, but much like in my art print that she owns, "Suffocate," its not about what you have that kills you but what you lack. No one would have loved and supported the work more than me, and while some people liked it, I didn't see anyone love it. That's all I'm saying.
This saturday I set my sights for Arlington for reasons that will be written in the concert notes section. On my way there I plan to plant copies of, George Clanton Ate My Son, across various locations. Hopefully someone likes it.
I'm treating this page about cutting like a small journal but it's necessary. I need to be constantly doing something or else I'll be miserable, as I've come to find out these past few months. Something doesn't always mean a concert. It can be drawing, writing, visiting places, seeing friends, going on a walk, exercise, etc, etc. But the "wake up, go to work, go to sleep" cycle I previously found myself in is no way to live.
Writing also helps me remember things. Especially when I read things back or retype all of them. Again, this whole getting better thing is an active practice, not passive. i can't be on cruise control again and expect things to somehow get better, but I feel like I may be winning this time.
My next appointment is on Wednesday. I may reduce the appointments to once a month. We'll see. Each one is 100 per visit. 200 a month. Nothing in my life save for a few other things is 200 a month. But it is working, so I can justify it. But also I'm trying to save up so I can leave my job and go back to school. I'll figure something out.
Ideas, ideas, ideas.
07/11/25 It looks like my friend is working on Sunday. Its not like I gave him over a month's notice or anything. I'm fine. I'm just a little annoyed. I need to find a replacement, fast! Is there not a soul who wants to see The Marias opened by Julie????
Kaitlyn comes to mind. Our last show didn't go well due to fatigue. There's more sitting involved here so maybe. Blaise also comes to mind. I haven't seen her since the Pvris concert but also I do miss her. Cynthia is more of a Kaityln friend but we hit it off spectacularly at the graduation. I wouldn't mind that tbh. Ryan also comes to mind but his hours are weird. Dana lives in Georgetown but is a hard maybe. The Kick John Mayer in the Nuts club members come as a set and I only have two tickets. Cereza is already going! I can't wait to see her again! Brian isn't totally out of the picture but our talks usually get super deep and I really can't stomach that right now, especially after the 12th. Mr. T hasn't really responded to my messages. He may have been the biggest casuality from the whole nicole thing. JD is a maybe, but I get wary of exposing my "true" self to extended family. Rachel is in San Antonio and I heard she was going to undergo surgery at the start of July. I hope she's doing well. The other Rachel is notoriously bad at responding. She will read the message but don't expect a response. Like, you know its bad when me and Kaitlyn get rejected. Ren/Bre is in Florida being hot and getting wicked bat back tattoos. Tiffany, oh man, I love you Tiffany but you have the most attrocious track record for being availible and flaking. Diana is busy, tired, and depressed. I feel weirdly shy/scared to ask Cristian so I won't. This doesn't seem like Hannah's vibe. Robert has gone MIA. I WILL FIND YOU ROBERT!!! Thomas is in Indiana. Madison and Meagan are a package deal but I feel like I will see their evil clones at the concert. My mom won't go and suspiciously hates a lot of women without being an outright misogonist. My dad would probably go just to have something to do but he has a very specific type of spanish music he likes. Like, how the fuck can you enjoy Angela Aguilar but hate Natalia Lafourcade??? Huh? We can't be related. I can't reach out to Orlando, Julien, Jessica, Maddy, or Ethan until my main insta gets reactivated, same with that one dude I met at the classic games fest when I bought some Fire Emblem collectables. Jamie has gone mia but would probably go to this. She's frustrating with how she constantly ghosts everyone. I feel like Lucy is a package deal where it feels weird to ask her if I don't ask Stef and again, I only have two tickets. Carlos is busy with his kids. Professor Thorberry would thoughtfully decline as its late and not quite his scene. Micheal is in the army and Andrew has two kids now. I am so sorry Andrew. I told you Jamie was bad news but nooooo, you decided to stop responding. I know how she made you felt but I also saw what she was doing to you. GOD DAMN YOU!!! Jeb Happy aka the other Andrew seems really cool but I feel weird asking out of nowhere like that. Alejandro is a maybe. Issac is anchored to his gf who thankfully isn't cassie anymore. Like, cassie was so clingy and so toxic. Maybe my brain is broken but I was under the impression that if you love someone, you don't treat them like shit. There's several more names both obvious and not obvious but I am hoping to find someone in time.
It appears that Ryan is the winner here. Before I talk about that, I would like to discuss a few interesting occurances that happened over the weekend.
A bit of a technical issue happened and the zine could not be distributed. SIgh. I had to revise it last minute and I did not have enough time. If it's not funny then I don't want it😡
Since I've been regularly working out again, things have started to fit better. For AEW All In I prepared a special outfit. Nothing all too crazy but I finally wore the flame leggings mentioned in the journal entry from 4/30/25, the one where I cry in my car over how ugly I felt in my body. When I had the outfit together, I actually felt pretty for the first time in, geez I don't know. I felt that way the whole day too. I felt so good I took a fun photo outside Globe Life Field and posted it. No memes, little fluff. I think this may be the only time I've posted a picture of myself with me as the focus but damnit I felt good!!! Not to be dramatic but in the back of my head I thought, "I better post this because if I die in a car accident people will lose the chance to witness this forever!"
On my drive home I called Colorodo friend to tell them about it. I was so overjoyed with this feeling of euphoria that I had to tell someone. Is that crazy? Am I crazy? Its nice to talk to them and be open. Maybe its just me but I feel like we've been nicer or, lord forgive me for typing this out, more compassionate towards each other. And it feels wonderful!
While we were waiting in line, along with after the concert and at the Denny's with Cereza, Ryan took several photos of me. Some with my direction and some from his own eye. I don't know how he does it but he nailed it. I actually love how weird, unsettling, intense, funny I looked in those pictures. I want to draw these!!! I must I must!!!! The unhinged Denny's one is so good!!!!!!
With the help of Ryan, I have the tools to start my self-portrait and likely super project. I will call it Red Tape. I'll have a single, aggressive red stripe go down my body and I will be wrapped in gentle blue lines. I know what it means and if I do it right, so will the viewer.
I have to write about this because it's so funny to me but also, while in line waiting for merch, me and Ryan spotted these beautiful, just stunning, pretty, shiny, warm, GLISTENING chicken sandwiches on display. No pedestal could be high enough for these sandwiches for no one was worthy to witness their flavor. What kind of flavor could they have? According to the sign, the sandwiches had "Shaq-sized flavor." Yes, as in Shaquelle O' Neal. Can you even comprehened just how much flavor could be in a sandwich that was "Shaq-sized?" How was everyone not sobbing at the presence of such goodness?
I don't want to moan about this point forever, but I am still stressed out that my friendship with Stef may be over. It feels eerily similar to last year with how sudden it happened and with how little I actually know what caused it. I have ideas, but nothing concrete comes to mind. I don't want to assume her thoughts or intentions. I don't know that, I can't know that. Only she can express that. My brain likes to fill in information, usually incorrect and with as much bad faith as possible, when it lacks answers. Stef is my best friend and I won't do that to her. Still, insta has shown me things in my feed I would have been better off not seeing. Things that have no wiggle room for interpretation. Maybe this was the whole unhealthy, obsessive thing nicole meant. Maybe I am really no good for these people. NO NO NO I CAN'T THINK THAT WAY!
To take my mind off things I've been working on more projects. A lot of them can't be shared in full so I have kept a LOT of material to myself. "George Clanton Ate My Son," will be a physical exclusive! I want that to only be shared by people who are not me! I may post a snippet but never in full! There's the aforementioned super project. Due to my self-deprecating nature, my self-portraits have often been the weakest of the line up but this will change! TE CREO "Cinta Roja!" Kaitlyn's is almost planned out. I have a pitch in mind. She's very flexible for poses and modeling but there needs to be an actual vision. It will be asking the bold question, "what's next?" Stef's is still developing. Last year was fine but damnit she deserves better than fine.
Therapy is later this week. I think I will reduce it to once a month starting in August. It seems to be working and I have also put in a lot of effort to help my mental well being. A bit of its questionable but I made sure to try everything I was told before dismissing anything. I really wish I didn't hurt myself,and to an extension my friends, in order for this to happen. On the bright end, the people I won't shut the fuck up to when I talk about the progress all seem to be throughly happy and excited for me. IDK. This is a weird time in my life.
(note: I have been actively avoiding writing out things like, "having an ugly/disgusting/fat body," or anything that's outwardly mean. I know this sounds super obvious but I remember my therapist asked me if I would speak to my friends that way and the answer is a strong no. So I'm trying to be less mean. I will be as honest as I need to be, but I think that's possible without having to digitally self-harm too, if that makes sense. Its a practice. Its all one big practice, and the more I do, the more I remember. Some days, being nice to myself can be as easy as breathing.)
We've agreed to reduce the appointments to once a month. I think I've made a tremendous amount of progress since starting. Before we meet, I have to fill out two forms. One form is for anxiety, the other depression. I was basically in "if one more bad thing happens I will kill myself" mode originally so I guess its cool to see that go down. Anxiety is about the same, maybe higher due to that one issue.
I didn't bring up my constant worry that my friendship with Stef is basically over this time. Maybe I should have. IDK.
Money was not a deciding factor in my choice here. I mean, losing 119 per session stings but once every two weeks is managable. If it I had little to no results, it would be unbearable.
This weekend was a huge deal for me because like, can you believe I had two days in a row where I didn't feel disgusting in my body??? and I actually posted a picture of myself?? That's huge!! Idk. I think its a big deal. I already told Nate,Kaitlyn, and Colorado friend.
on 5/28, when I hung out with my old friend. He told me something that I for the life of me cannot get out of my head. Something about it was just so comforting and euphoric. I think the closest I could think to finding that level of peace was when I hit the back of my head working at sonic and I could only percieve the color white and the feeling of cold. Anyways, he was telling me about watching Jersey Shore. At first, he was didn't like it but once you actually watch the show, you "get it." Anyways, Snooki and these guys were up late partying, drinking, doing whatever and naturally, Snooki wakes up super hungover with some guy. So, what's a person to do while hungover? If you said, "go to a bar," then GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!!! But yes, Snooki and this dude, hungover af, go to a bar. Snooki gets a shot. I don't know what the shot is but I feel like Fireball would be the most appropriate so that's the reality I chose to live in, the Fireball reality. anyways, they take the shot, and in a chipper, happy voice, Snooki says, "yum!"
I spent a fun weekend with Kaitlyn. We saw a lot of Mike Tyson Mysteries and the last two Naked Gun movies. We are now prepped for the new Naked Gun movie. We also did get to visit and antique sale where I found some valuable fabric. I will use it with the love and care it deserves. While I did enjoy my time with her and her cats, I think, for this week at least, I really need to catch up on some basic maintenance at my house like, cleaning, folding, maybe sweeping and mopping. Dishes are already done. My garden is basically on auto-pilot by design so no worries there.
Unless the perks are particularly good in August, I think I may be done donating platlets. I hope my blood went somewhere good. mama coyotes have permission to use my blood to feed their baby. They would probably sip it out the pouch like a capri-sun.
I told myself for pride month I wanted to read one pride adjacent/pride story thing from the library recommendations. This sunday, while donating platlets, I finished The Future was Color. I loved the last eighth of the book. This may have been the first time in a while I thought about death in an overwhelmingly optimistic way. Not the optimistic where the world is better off without me and by me dying I can no longer be a burden/embarassment on those I care about. More like optimistic in the fact that chance and improbabilities have brought us all together and we should live wonderfully with each other while we can. Also it touches on how much of a ripple/impact one person can have on another for better or worse. The other 7/8ths felt like it was going nowhere. I didn't expect this book to be an erotica but man, anything involving gay stuff felt passionless. It didn't feel like a straight guy wrote it but more like a gay person who's never had sex and has contempt for the act. Am I allowed to read that much into it? Well, its more thoughtprovoking than what was in the book I'll say that for sure. Ultimately, this book is not worth reading and a message like that could be delivered through something better like, I dunno, Everything, Everywhere, All at Once. This is what I get for trying to be open minded for Pride month. I did also check out a comic about gender and it's interesting. I think the art is super bland, lacks any and all teeth, but the real life interview parts are interesting.
I read in a Hana Vu interview today how she said life is like a choose your own adventure book with how you choose to perceive things with a given attitude. Romanticism, her 2024 album, is full of moments that can be taken a certain way. I've secretly been takening notes and trying to write songs on the side so this insight is quite valuable to me.
Hana Vu says she really doesn't feel like she belongs to this generation or any generation, she hardly feels like she qualifies as a human on this planet and honestly, so true. I kind of feel that gap of allienation widening as I grow older. Its secretly a good thing. I will not elaborate.
Ideally, I would like to make songs loosely based off my life, mostly fiction, and have them be funny with some darkness added. I feel like Cheekface is the closest example I can think of but I also want things to sound a bit more raw and loose. Its a work in progress, but its interesting slowly discovering a new outlet to express myself/art. I will admit, learning a new instrument has been H E L L I S H
I left my sketchbook with my therapy notes in it at work over the weekend so I could only practice so much of the new stuff. I'm getting better at fighting the more aggressive thoughts regarding my body. I mean, I know I am not where I want to be but I'm getting better about balancing that thought with the idea that I want to still attain a better body. Its a practice. I feel kind of weird balancing and working through these ideas but I'm sure it will get easier.
Speaking of sketchbook, I am now burning through the pages twice as fast as my obsessive need to talk and draw has resurfaced. That and I want a new sketchbook to work in. I love you Mxmtoon, your minecraft boyfriend story that somehow did not end up being a grooming story by your good fortune, your smiling friends impressions,your Taco Bell commercial that only 1% of your fanbase knows about, your funny tiktoks (my fav being the one where you're standing to cricket sound effects because China never discovered the "Prom Dress" trend), but this sketchbook with the cover made from upcycled posters from your Masquarade tour has been awful to work in. It will not stay open and the deeper one works in it, the more rigid it gets. How awful!!!! I miss my moleskine! I will get one once I finish!
This week, I believe is the classic games fest. I'll try to go. One year I didn't go because I was too depressed. Last year I went even though I felt awful in my body. I ended up making a friend with a person I said I would go to concerts with if I ever had an opening. I added them on my main insta but then had to deactivate shortly after because the nicole situation had my mood in the black zone and I was really planning on doing something bad in Ogden. I did not want my social media up when it(original plan) happened. I can't believe I put Colorado friend and Stef through that. I can't keep doing this to them. I will go to that fun game convention and I won't be stopped by my brain again!!!
THis new Tyler album has me wanting to move until my body is a walking pipecleaner person of pure energy. So hot, so lizard. Let's boogie please, it may just change your life!
Short post. Maybe. For starters Hulk Hogan has died. I have mixed feelings about it but I must document this. Friday Night Smackdown took place in the Moody Center early in the year. Creo que se occurio en enero. Anyways, un aviso de Hulk Hogan para su cerveza, "Real American Beer," muestra. Naturalmente, yo empezo a gritar, "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOU SUCK!" Al principio, yo fue al solo persona que quien estuvo "booooing." Then, more people joined in, a mi papa no lo hizo pero el no le gusta Hulk Hogan tampoco. Eventually, the whole arena started booing and I think they had to abruptly cut the ad early. El aviso no regreso esta noche. El noche siguente fue "Saturday Night Main Event," en San Antonio, Texas. Orignially, Hogan was set to appear but he bailed last minute to, "attend a wedding." Everyone knew that was a load of barnacles and knew this was due to increasing crowd hostiity towards him (I implore you to watch the 01/06/25 episode of Monday Night Raw on netflix and see how much the crowd boos him on his final appearance). Anyways, that's all I have to say about that. Well, that and the fact that he died on the decade anniversary of his racist tape leaking. Generational worker that man is, well, was. 😈🙉🙉🙊
Earlier I wrote about how and why I am writing more. It helps me remember more, review my progress, and gives me a general idea of where my mental state is and more importantly, where it has been. As I've been writing more, I've also reviewed more of my previous entries. The idea of self-compassion isn't a new one, but I could tell in my previous writings the very idea of it, let alone practice, made me super uncomfortable. I didn't write this down but the feeling of being nice to myself filled me so much disgust, I would triple the amount of contempt/hatred towards myself to even it out. As I'm writing this, I'm seeing fully how unhealthy that was, but I genuinely could not do it back then. My therapist has helped me greatly with reframing and asking questions to help guide me toward that place. Don't get me wrong, showing compassion towards myself can still be difficult. However, I have gotten way better about not undoing my work with the usual set of verbal jabs.
Expanded on verbal jabs, I am being a little more careful about my language lately. Is this a safe place? Okay, cool. There are certain words I think should be saved/stored up and used for extra punch, effect, emphasis, etc. But these words need to be used thoughtfully and carefully and not for cheap pops. A lot of people don't get that and have slowly normalized bringing these words back into the social vernacular and I'm not a fan of that. Like, I promise you there's nothing you can wear that warrants one to describe it as, "fucking retarded." I can be super funny, especially when I'm being mean or critical, and I feel I have a big responsibility to not give people the green light to say these words freely. Its not like I want the words gone for good, but also they can be needlessly hurtful and I can't say I'm a fan of that. I feel Jon Bois said it best in his video, THE DUMBEST BOY ALIVE, PRETTY GOOD, EPISODE SIX, "I don't like that word, I'm not gonna use it. The word hurts people and if you think otherwise you should ask around." Jon is a pretty cool dude and I love his analysis and number crunching on certain subjects. People likely wouldn't have cared if he used the word, but I thought it was powerful that he chose not to and thoughtfully explained to his audience the issue with it. Its all a practice and I would prefer to avoid sowing bad habits if possible.
When reviewing more of my writings, I have to say, I am a little shocked at my capacity of hatred towards myself. My therapist asked if I would ever say any of this to my friends and that's the crazier part. Obviously, I wouldn't and I have never said anything that hurtful to anyone, ever. Not even to people that deserve it. So it makes less sense why I would say that to myself. I mean, I understand why, but that may need to be phased out. So nuts how this is all an active process and I can't just passively not hate myself. For what it's worth, I feel it working.
I will keep things brief. Or not. I've been consistently working out lately and I feel my cardio finally returning. I was worried for a moment it was gone for good!!! Kaitlyn has a gym membership and wants me to help her out. I will! I must!🫡🫡🫡🫡👶👶🚼👼👼
Helping out family with the church Jamaica later today. Miguel Salgado will be a guest performer. Wait, what? How the fuck did they land him????
Big Week? Maybe. But before I talk about that, I need to talk about last week, or Saturday to be specific. I did go to the game convention after all. Security seemed heavier than previous years. I wonder what spurred that on. Brian didn't know either and he has a pulse on that scene the most. There were a few moments where panic started to seep in regarding my body but I practiced more of those techniques my therapist told me about and it was able to dispell those effects. So cool! It doesn't really change the reality of the situation, but it makes living in it much more manageable. Previously I would have scratched my arms or stomach until it bled in order to emotionally regulate. That's not healthy, but back then it felt right. Some days I would do a singular long, deep scratch if I was feeling overwhelmed. Again, not lately. I didn't really meet anyone this time but I was able to have a few chats about fire emblem with some people before abrubtly leaving for one reason or another. I think it was a success overall. It was also my mom's birthday. She planned on hiding in Austin to avoid people. We watched a few episodes of Wife Swap and there was a really funny one with a spiritual vegan family and a cowboy conservative family. I lost my shit so hard when the vegan husband threw his cheeseburger over the balcony. Like, he got an incredible amount of distance with the throw too! Burger-tastic!!! Butterball came too but when my mom took him down he "screamed." Some days he's okay to pick up and some days he'll "Scream." I found that out by accidentally dropping him after it happened. (I mean, he wanted to go down so I obliged????!!!!) Due to this, my mom decided to head back to San Marcos early for reasons. Mostly Butterball adjacent reasons.
Today is Cindy's birthday. She's a member of the Kick John Mayer in the Nuts club and a friend. I hope she had a good birthday! I should make her a mixtape one of these days.
On July 31st The Naked Gun movie comes out and me and Kaitlyn plan to see it. We already caught up on the first three movies. We haven't seen "Police Squad," yet but I'm sure we are sufficently caught up.
Earlier in the day I dreamed I was walking through Joann's, my old job. I could hear Stella going "Tee Hee," through the empty aisles. She's the only person I know who does that. The shelves were all empty. There wasn't a scarp a fabric, a speck of glitter, or a sheet of paper left. For some reason, I got on top of the cutting table and started to meditate. The air grew cold, and I could feel shadowy, dense figures in the shape of my coworkers (the ones I like) surround me. When I opened my eyes, nothing was there. When i woke up I made sure to tell Stella. As usual, she was babysitting lol.
On saturday and sunday its Summerslam. Two beautiful nights of beautiful wrestling. I for one am excited!
I saw a tiktok yesterday about suicide awareness. It was reposted by this dude that does livestreams of classic mario party, he's a real sweetheart of a guy. It was the usual emotional speech where it talks about how many things will be unchanged, life will go on, but the people you left behind will be deeply hurt. I know I'm getting mentally better, but I don't believe my absence would really be all that impactful. Maybe I should do something about that. Hmmm.
Last night I had, its more of a dream but it definitely had the scaffolding of a nightmare, regarding Stef. Nothing too crazy happened, if anything, only one thing happened. I got a letter from her. The letter was several pages long. A good bulk of it was song recommendations complete with album images and a small note next to each song. Apparently she's been busy with shows, open mics, other friends, and was about to release her album. Between every update or so regarding her status, song recommendations would be woven in. I was kind of surprised to see a Marilyn Manson song. I don't think she would listen to him much if at all but I have no way of truly knowing her experiences like that, or anyone for that matter. There was also a Colin Stetson song with a request at the bottom to not leak Patreon songs. I found that odd since Colin Stetson doesn't gatekeep his material much if at all, but I shrugged it off and kept reading. There was also a Timmy song called, "Though the Stars May Fall," and after waking up I checked, no its not real but you never know what elaborate joke they have up their sleeve. At the end of the letter its finally revealed that the friendship is in fact over and a request for me to not attend her shows. I sat at my desk and stared at the wall for a long time. My eyes were wet but nothing would come out. I have a rule about telling people as soon as possible if I dream about them but out of respect for Stef needing space, this one will be shelved. It's been over two months since we've communicated any words between us. W O R R Y.
I forgot to tell Cindy Happy Birthday but luckily Nate covered for me and said I did. whew!
Kaitlyn has requested more assistance for moving so I shall oblige. I hope we're more productive today than Sunday. Not to say we weren't productive Sunday, but we realistically could have done more. She also wants me to take custody of her Thanos. I will treat Thanos with the love and respect he deserves. I genuinely find it so funny to see him standing on the tv stand everytime I visit her.
Once I finish Cintas Rojas, I will email Mr. T again. He never responded to the one in march. Maybe he's also tired of me. That remains to be seen.
I am almost done planning the logistics for a secret fan art for the wonderful, Pacing. She was the opener for Cheekface this year. She recently released an album called, "Pl*net F*tness," and I love it! Its personal, funny, and sounds pretty?? Leading up to the release of the album, she did a live auction with a WHEEL OF WONDER!!! When the wheel spins, a copy of her album on Vinyl would be up for purchase along with a bonus. This includes test presses, stickers, shirts, alt colors, and most importantly, a custom song. Extra money from the event would be donated to help with immigration legal funds. I'll look up the exact group later. Anyhoo, the final prize was the custom song and I was able to snag it!! The contents of the song are a secret but I want to give her art to coorelate with the song! Heh heh.
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