Mind Vomit

Rambly thoughts and snippets of sickness

There’s something very comforting and also very lonely in talking to no one.

I can say anything and it won’t matter.

I can say: I wish I could still open up my wrists and see the blood. And maybe it’s true and maybe it’s not. And I won’t put a trigger warning anywhere either because there’s no one to get triggered, except for me, but I don’t do those things anymore because I am a Healthy Functional Adult™. 

So instead I do the less obvious things, the maybe-it-hurts things, like staying up late and writing letters to nobody and listening to Brand New and looking at photos of dead people and not talking to my friends until very very slowly I become transparent. 

But don’t worry, because I am a Healthy Functional Adult™ and I will wake up in the morning anyway and go to work and I will feel just fine or if I don’t I won’t say so.

I guess I only write things like this at night when the world is sharper and darker and more bitter and unkind. The world is not always like this. It only shows its teeth half the time and uses them even less. I guess I just like being sad and dramatic. I guess I haven’t grown at all.

Talking to myself

It’s strange, this desire to put words where they could potentially be seen but won’t be. Almost like being vulnerable, but not quite. Like vulnerable is a face I can put on when I look in the mirror. I’m not sure what that says about me. I guess it can’t be attention seeking if I don’t expect or receive attention.

And yet I could write this in a notebook or just on my computer where no one could possibly see it but I don’t.

Here is a list of things I would like:

-a cigarette

-sex

-him, curled up beside me

-something with lots of sugar. Cake maybe?

-to no longer be sick

-the time/ energy/ will to paint

-a drink (the adult kind)

-some weeds (the illegal kind)

-the time/energy/will to go to the doctor and admit that I fucked up

-to no longer be sad (but not really)

-friends? But I could have that if I tried

-reassurance.

.

I can’t see the moon tonight.

I am very, very tired.

I will probably stay up later than I should. I can’t tell anymore if it’s habit or self sabotage. Maybe both. Probably both.

Pay no attention to this, it is probably all untrue.

I used to think that everyone was good and perfect, and I was the only bad and rotten thing. Now I think that everyone is just as bad and rotten as I am, or at least most people, and I hate everything and make it all stop, I didn’t agree to this, I want to get off. 

July 29- bedtime thoughts

I feel so heavy

my heart is a stone

sinking down into my guts

bringing me to the floor

.

I scrape my knuckles on

the sharpness of myself

Sticking pins into my skin

so no one can get close

.

Every moment is a knife in me

My lungs fill with water

I have become the ocean

rising and falling with the moon

.

Daily I drown and un-drown

within my womb-tomb

body

Love, in three parts

mechanicalflightpath:

I am Jupiter’s unending storm;
gravity keeps me spinning.

When you are near my ocean-heart is calm
You are the god that stills my waves.

You are the vast black empty,
a blanket
on my shoulders.

So my boyfriend has found a house. He will be moving in June, and I will be joining him in September.

I am equal parts excited and terrified.

There is so much I have to do still and it’s all piling on my shoulders like a mountain. I want to hide from it in my bed but it will find me there eventually. The only solution is to face it like an adult. I am still not convinced I am an adult but I have to act like one or everything will go to pieces.

I should go outside more. I should smoke less. I should wake up before 2. I should eat properly. Baby steps. One thing at a time.

So, next week, I have to:

1. email my school advisor and figure out what classes I still need to take

2. look over my work schedule and see if I can fit an art history class in this summer

3. Make a hypothetical budget for when I move out so I know how much money I need to be making.

That seems doable. Right? I can do this.

I don’t feel good.

And I am not sure why. I do have some theories, but there is no way of knowing which, if any, is the root cause.

I am having some thoughts that are probably irrational, but because whenever I think them I am repulsed by their stupidity, I find it very difficult to express them. My cognitive processes are tending toward the negative lately. Instead of negating maladaptive or illogical thoughts with truth or reason, I negate them with more negativity. This is not productive. 

Here is an example.

Initial feeling: I am upset because my family went out to dinner without me, and without asking if I could or wanted to attend. 

Reactionary thought: That is stupid. You often disappear for nights or days without telling them where you are. They have no obligation to invite you anywhere. You are blowing this out of proportion. You have no right to feel upset. Stop it. This is such a trivial thing to be upset about. 

So you see, none of this is very rational. I have not yet figured out how to make it better. I have this suspicion that my general feeling of malaise has an internal cause, and I attribute it to small daily occurrences because then I have something other than myself to blame. Maybe when my medication is refilled it will improve on it’s own.

Run on sentences

2 in the morning twitching can’t-sleep fingers at the keyboard to the dulcet tones of Regina Spektor

finding new ways to blur my vision as the room spins the room the room spins it spin-in-in it spins. 

I think maybe my loneliness is a lie but I am blinded by it.

Note to self

I think I’ve had a realization but it may just be insomnia-induced madness, or chemically-induced madness, or some other sort of madness I have yet to discover, so I think I’ll write it down and we’ll see how I feel about it in the morning. The realization is this: getting pissed off at people for things they enjoy is a shitty thing to do. Unless the thing they enjoy is hurting someone, such as rape or abuse or you get the idea. But when it comes to harmless things like music or poetry or literature, and by harmless I mean things that are not made to cause hurt, people should be allowed to enjoy whatever they want. It is so easy to feel superior, to think your opinions are the only right and true thing. Do not forget that there are many truths, not just yours, and also that most truths are changeable. You must be patient with people. You must let them have whatever joy they can. You must learn to have joy also.

DISCLAIMER (because this is the internet): I do not support animal abuse or dismemberment.
A little bit of practice for a large scale painting which will be the most gory and unsettling thing I have ever made, if all goes as planned. Because fuck art school.