now that i have a twitter account to go along with this page, here are the disclaimers i posted there. collected in one place so i can easily refer to them occasionally on the twitter stream.
This stream inspired from a conversation to be used to chronicle the ups and downs of someone with mental illness. Proceed with caution. link
Having lived with mental issues for many years, I know that despite how scary sounding the tweets might be, I am safe. No worry of suicide. link
Sometimes the lows get very low, and it is best to get the dark thoughts out of one’s head. While some tweets may scare, trust that I’m ok. link
I may repeat these disclaimer-type tweets occasionally. link
trying to write for my website and after awhile, things start to become contrived. i’ve been easily distracted lately and indecisive. angsty and wishy-washy. it’s…well, hard to make decisions.
sleep’s been off, so coming back from that. upset at friends. feeling alone and with no one to talk to. fiancé has been great, but i don’t want to drop a bunch of angsty stuff on him.
i saved the draft, and he suggested i just ramble on here (he said free write) and let stuff out.
i had a dream this morning and what i remember is my parents lecturing me about not having a job even though i technically have one and i’m in the position that i don’t have to worry about money.
so i think this dream is less about what they think, because they are fairly supportive right now, and more about what i’m feeling about myself and my mind is manifesting the stucknesses in the form of my mom and dad.
i don’t know what i’m good at or what i’d want to do as a career. i went to sleep last night very angry and sad because i feel like i’m not heard and when i do talk, i’m interrupted and ridiculed.
i’m afraid a lot. i’m miserable. i don’t like my apartment. too cluttered. too dark. the clutter makes the space feel constricting.
where’s the focus?
what would make me happy?
why do i have so much stuff i never look at? never listen to? never watch?
what would i do if i couldn’t listen to music anymore?
what makes me happy?
how is it that i have music on my hard drive i can’t stand, but i have other music i want to hear but can’t find?
what would i do if i couldn’t live in my home anymore?
what do i want to do with my life?
the current answer to the above questions: i don’t know.
it’s time to let go.
let go of the unhappiness.
let go of the pain.
let go of the hurt.
i think of brother phelps, singing in my head (let go baby, let the wind blow through your hair). i think of anything i’ve ever heard that says it’s time to move on. roll with the punches, as young mc raps.
time to realize that not every person i meet is out to get me.
there are genuine people in the world.
it’s good to be cautious.
it’s not good to be constantly suspicious.
dear fj
there are a lot of things i want to say to you, but i think i don’t want to expend energy on you anymore.
you are the first person to teach me that i have to keep an eye on who’s around me when i log into stuff. you’re the catalyst for me to start my habit of changing my online presence on a regular basis.
the catalyst for me to adopt online personas. to answer to a name other than the one my parents gave me.
to have to be more secretive with who i really am.
i know it was you who hacked into my account. i can never prove it. it’s just something i know. and it was so long ago that it shouldn’t matter anymore.
to me, you are a lot of things i don’t want to say here. a lot of unkind words.
and it’s time to let go.
so, fuck off. karma will deal, or has dealt, with you. this letter is for me to let the concept of you go off to the ether.
no love
me
dear first
you are a regret. i try not to have regrets, but you are one.
you’re also self-absorbed, hypocritical, and pretentious.
hating you takes too much effort, so if there is such a thing, i effortlessly hate you.
if i could talk to the younger version of me who knew you, i’d tell her that you weren’t worth it.
no love
me
lacking the motivation. feeling info overload. crying most days when i don’t know what else to do. nothing gets done unless i’m away from home.
i’m not happy with the state of my home. too much clutter. i am happy it’s a smaller place than where i lived before because fiancé and i spend most of our time in one room and the rest of the apartment really goes unused.
talking about going to my hometown this summer. it’s just talk right now, but i think i’d love to go. the worst of the summer here is august, and we’d be here for it, but july has the least amount of conflicts. so it’s still in the air.
also trying hard to be as unidentifiable here as possible. i think people who really know me could figure it out.
listening to one of my favorite singers right now. the music is so soothing, even when it’s up tempo and rocking.
it’s so hard for me to focus these days. so many things trying to demand my attention. just want to say ‘enough’ and turn everything off. let my head quiet down a bit.
fiancé suggests i write in here when i’m feeling angsty. the words are difficult to get out sometimes, though.
I absoutely hate this. I feel like people are just humoring me and then I feel horrid because it’s pretty clear to me that it’s just one of my issues popping up and not that people are actively ignoring me.
When I get this way, I just want to hide and let this stuff go its course. It is so hard to hide how I’m feeling when the urge to rant and cry and scream is so overwhelming.
I hate feeling this way.
i’ve struggled with weight my entire life. i’ve been becoming more mindful of what i eat and i’ve lost some pounds.
but i am so uncomfortable with how i look. how clothes look on me.
i manage to be disconnected from that self-image a lot of the time. but occasionally i look in the mirror. and i so don’t like how i look.
no real point to this entry. just something i wanted to say.