Hi, I'm back with another post on my blog-with-a-misleading-name! :-)
I still have to fully read and reply to what you guys had to say (left comments? ahh, my heart :") <3).
I feel like posting another post at midnight on a Monday.
Me @ at any and all times: Why are you like this? Stop being like That. *disgusted shrugging noises*
Shoot, what was I gonna say......
. . . . .
Well umm, I woke up earlier than the time I wake up for school yesterday (on Sunday) for no reason. So that was.. something.
I swear I can't stay asleep for more than 5 or 6 hours straight without waking up. I can't bring myself to sleep a full 8 hours without waking up at least once in the middle of it.
Haha, my sleep.. out of wack. My health.. out of wack. It's bad lmao.
Last week, I felt such an intense aching sadness. It wouldn't go away. Like yeah, I always am sad to some extent, but this time it felt so physical. Which was weird. It hurt a lot. I also felt like I needed to cry, but I couldn't. I feel like the slightest thing someone says to me will make me cry, but it's also hard for me to actually cry. It's like I cry in my head and sometimes forget that I'm not actually physically crying where other people can see my tears.
Want to know who's my lifesaver? My cat is, lol. Thelma. Man, I love her so much.
One thing I like about my voice is that I can make myself sound exactly like a distressed crying kitten. So when I feel very sad and hurt, I meow like a crying cat, and Thelma comes right up to me. Well, that's only when we're in my room. And she just makes me feel so much better.
My family is sometimes joking about whether to train her to be a therapy cat, and I'm thinking that she's my personal therapy cat. I honestly think she's saved me from harming myself many times now.
So when I meow, she comes right up to me and starts rubbing her face or headbutting my face. And she purrs very loudly when doing that. And sometimes it sounds like she's chirping when she does that. And it's just so cute.
Like I could be thinking pretty graphic and disturbing things, and then just feeling her hit me with her face and those whiskers while she's purring, and I ttemporarily stop thinking about those bad thoughts and then I actually start laughing. Because, idk lol, it's funny how I can fool my cat into thinking I'm also a cat. And she's just repeatedly headbutting me. And her whiskers are ticklish. And she's so small and warm and fluffy.
I love my cat so much, and she's one thing that keeps me alive. ;v;
As for why I hate my voice, it's just that I literally can never know what I sound like when other people hear me. How I hear my voice in my head is so, so, so different (and better) than how I hear it after I play a recording with my voice. And honestly, I feel so disconnected from hearing my voice on recordings. I can't believe I sound like that to other people. I don't know anyone who has a voice even close to what mine sounds like, and it bothers me so much. I don't even sound like my family, ugh.
I can't know if my voice is too high or too flat when talking to other people. And it annoys me so much. I constantly feel like people think I'm weird or have things wrong with me due to how I sound. And I don't even know what I sound like to other people unless I'm hearing a recording of my voice. Because, I hear my voice sounding so vastly different than how other people hear it. And it makes me feel so disconnected, it hurts.
I bet to other people I sound like a freaking 8 year old when I talk. So that's why I refuse to talk a lot irl. And just thinking about how my voice sounds when I'm yelling and swearing.. yikes. I just want to sound like any other 17 year old where I'm from. Is that too much to ask for?
I have some poems, I just haven't had the confidence to post them online. I don't know if they're any good. So .. yeah.
Sometimes when I'm typing up posts and then reading them later, I feel like I've gotten drunk. Drunk on the words I've written. Drunk on poetry. Writing is like a drug.
That probably sounds like gibberish, and it probably is. Drunk on poetry.. is that a saying? I feel like it is.
As for why I feel uncomfortable with my arms, it's because they're so skinny and I feel inadequate about my body. So, heh, yeah.
For the past week, I've had these fading cat scratches along on my inner right forearm (the side the palm of my hand is on). They're basically gone by now, and only a faint trace of them ever being there is, well, still there. And like, that's no big deal. My cats end up hitting me with their sharp claws pretty often. It doesn't even hurt (until I notice that they actually made me bleed, smh). And again, this happens a lot.
But for some reason (tw?) my disturbing self destructive hell thoughts keep on looking down at these fading cat scratches on my arm and imagining them fully back and bleeding. So then there I am staring at my inner forearm and imagining it being covered in horizontal scratches just like the scratches my cats left me. But my mind is imagining the scratches being everywhere until my forearm is covered in horizontal scratches.
And.. yeah.. scary. Scary to think about that. I don't know. I keep on looking at that part of my arm (the same goes for my left arm) and having to reassure myself that I have no new scratches and that it doesn't look (or did) self harm (I never even did that anyways, so who the heck knows why I'm suddenly thinking it?).
Oh and one reason I've been wondering if anyone comments anymore is because I want to know if people still read my posts. I know I've gone through with doing that in s dramatic way, and I'm sorry.
I want to post more story content, and I'm paranoid that nobody is interested in what I write. I also have this short story with different characters in it, and I want to know what you guys think of it. It was for a school assignment, but now I keep on thinking of those characters and want to draw them.
I want people online to read it, despite my writing being pretty bad. ^-^"
I also felt sad and annoyed that no one left any questions/thoughts about the several posts I made about Fierdan and Duke in future chapters. Especially about Duke. I made so many posts about him. Getting no questions or opinions about that stuff hurt my feelings a little.
It's okay though. I guess it's hard to come up with what to say. I throw so many different things at you in a single post, so you're probably overwhelmed with what to comment about.
I want to feel less lonely and not think that this blog isn't read by others anymore. I guess I'm an attention seeker then.. heh.
And then there's my chronic feelings of guilt/shame that seem to never fully go away. And there's my fear for the future. To put it short, I really don't know if I'm making the right decision to go into a certain major/career path in college. I'm so scared that I'm trying to make a fantasy dream of mine a reality, and that I'll never make it and be good enough for myself and anyone.
I'm so terrified. Then add student loans and just being a college student in general and then having to get a job.. and I'm so freaking scared all the freaking time. And it makes me feel like I'm wasting so much money and for what? My parents already spent so much money on me. And that's also why I'm so hesitant on telling them how bad my mental health has gotten and that maybe my brother was right and that I need therapy. But unlike what he said, I think I need it to help with other things too. And that "social anxiety" isn't just a vague term and that I bet it's a disorder when it comes to me because it's negatively affecting my life to such an extent. And I could say the same about depression. But doctor appointments and therapists are expensive, and I feel even more guilty if I have to make my parents spend even more money on me even though getting therapy and maybe even medication (Kombucha isn't medication, fam) could improve my life and that I can maybe function better. And I feel so bad and think of suicide whenever inconveniences come up, and this is such a poor way of living. Geez.. that was a lot thrown out at you, sorry about that. I don't know what I'm thinking. I'm a freaking mess.
And I'm also scared of doctors. And I keep on invalidating that hey maybe I have depression or at least dysthymia (I've been feeling this way since the 10th grade to this low extent and I've been feeling like that earlier too but not as extremely bad) so it's been two years at least. And I have frequent suicidal ideation, so maybe yeah I should get help before I think of making that passive into active. And I already know ways of which I could try and die. I've been thinking about it for that much already, and with the stresses of college I know those thoughts will only multiply if I don't seek help other than things I read and listen to online. I regret how I was in my rare genuine happy moods when my doctor asked if I think I have depression and anxiety. I could be somewhere better if I said the truth, but doctors scare me and I don't want to make my family worry about me.
.... I don't know what I'm even saying here anymore.
I probably have some typos here. I'm too lazy to check. I hate seeing typos. They bother me so much.
I just want to have people tell me I have a right to living a future, and believe it.
Dang, am I forgetting to mention something? I don't know.
Well, I'll just end the post here. It's already long. And it's nearly 1 am.
Yeah. Bye.
~ Cutepups
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