
Page 34
Page 34
what a mess
I’m spiralling inwards and god knows why. who knew that my company was one of my sources of mental stability. who knew? I knew. Their dumb funny light hearted mood everyday stabilized me so much and I’m onyl reallt feeling it now because of wfh.
god. i need to go back to counselling. what a fucking mess.
all right I guess tumblr ate this post because it can’t handle the truth or something, so here it is again
25
i missed coming back here on my birthday, which, as I’d like to remind myself –– is not a compulsory thing. This place is negativity. Feels like home, but is negativity which is, of course, also another thing that feels like home.
I remember feeling like I was going nuts on my birthday this year, I was rushing out a client work and I simply sat at home and did nothing. I turned down requests to meet up for my birthday (which I still haven’t met anyone and its been 2 months over my birthday, but I’ve already started doing that since last year - birthdays are flexible in my head. The main idea is the spirit of loving and being loved).
But on my birthday I went nuts because I was starting to feel uncomfortable at how comfortable I was not caring about seeing people. On one hand, yes, it’s nice and good to be self assured and not needing others. On the other hand, I think and I really do believe that it is rather selfish to live your whole life inert within yourself, not caring to reach out to the friends who care so much for you, help you with anything you ask of and reply you immediately despite all your silences with being buried under freelance work. Yes, you haven’t stop caring for them and you still love them, but love cannot just be a thing that you ‘think’ of. Show it with your actions, words, gifts, quality time, touch.
On the other hand, maybe I’m just feeling a tension between ‘how I should be like’ vs. ‘how I really am like at the moment’. Expectations because one of my closest friends are super extroverted. I can’t tell.
Anyway, what’s hilarious is that one of my friends who lives close by was feeling like an emo nemo so i offered to have lunch with him. the next morning (an hour before lunch) he then told me he wanted to meet other people and i was like, okay, fully realizing and knowing that the guy forgot about my birthday even though i told him about it one week ago. that’s not the hilarious part, the hilarious part is the part where i got quite upset that not because i got stood up. but because i felt like i was constantly baby sitting him. then i realized i was also baby sitting my other guy friend. then in a turn of fucking obvious revelations, i realized i’ve been baby sitting a lot of guy friends, even the guy i was dating.
I proceeded to self therapize myself, and the conclusion was that when I was younger (actually around the age before i started this blog), i didn’t have a lot of friends in school. THEN I started making a lot of online friends on homestuck and they had this side group that was like mental-help group, and you could anonymously post depressing things, and anyone could help. I got a LOT of new friends back then because of that. because i was helping people, talking to them through shit. I suddenly got a lot of friends.
the funny part is, I guess i internalised that that was the way to make friends with. that if i didn’t help people with their emotional health/other things, then that was not a good friendship I had. But obviously, that isn’t the way to make friends, because you’re not a counsellor. You’re supposed to be a friend, and of course you’re going to feel suffocated and alone when you keep giving yourself the ‘counsellor’ role.
Chris says I need to try to be more myself with others. Take back my own moments of being able to openly share about myself as well.
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Funnily enough, I’m back here because of homestuck. so i guess i’m 25, and i’m still into homestuck. I guess I’m 25 and I’m thinking about how I interact with others. Why I make the choices that I do, and what I should do from here. That’s pretty cool. Therapy is lit. Don’t do drugs!
I’m okay at where I am.
24
sometimes coming back here feels like a curse because it’s a blog filled with so much negativity.
sometimes talk to an old friend feels like a curse because talking about that past that was filled with so much negativity, well. it’s hard to say. I know i’ve grown. I know I’ve changed from the 17 year old I used to be, closed up, hardened heart and [insert more metaphors about being as silent as a stone and internal suffering because i haven’t written enough in ages to be lyrical anymore]. sometimes i think that we have a certain amount of suffering to be used up within a year, and at 18 i finished all those bottles of suffering in advance and that’s how I lived out such a peaceful 23 (more peaceful than the previous years, at least). And that relationships hurt less than they do before, so i get less and less hung up over heartbreaks than I used to at 20 years old. sometimes i think back on how cringy 20 and 21 year old denise was with her first break up, but then, well. you go through a big one alongside other smaller ones and you realize how much of an idiot you were in hindsight. but you couldn’t have realized that until you’ve gone through it in the first place. so I’m glad that that’s over and done with. I’m glad that growth comes along with experiences of heart ache, and I’m glad that I managed to stay alive and survive in spite of the heart breaks I caused myself and others.
This is probably the first positive post on this blog that I’ve written when thinking about growing older. every other birthday post came with wishes and wondering about dying and emotional turmoil, but here’s the first peaceful one:
I’m 24 and I just want my friends to be happy with who they are. that’s all.
Topher☕🍃 on Twitter
“ATTENTION STORYBOARD ARTISTS/ ASPIRING STORYBOARD ARTISTS! Here's a mini thread of links and stuff that've helped with my survival working in TV:”
Cymon and Iphigenia by Lord Frederic Leighton, 1884 (details)
❣️
Dolce and Gabbana Fall 2013 rtw
jealousy is unbecoming exceptionally when no one really belongs to you
Old French Fairy Tales, Countess of Segur, illustrated by Virginia Frances Sterrett, 1920
I feel like a fucking hack. I still can’t function. what is wrong with me. What was the point of school?