quarantine is really bad for my thoughts

       I think being in quarantine is even worse for my mental health than I thought. I didn't notice it at first but I am more sad than happy, and I've cried myself to sleep more in the past 3 weeks than I had in the whole 6 months that I was away at school. I feel like I'm back in high school, but even then I was happier than I am now. I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, I need to this to be over soon, like really soon because my heart is starting to get heavy again, and I don't want it too. I finally, finally, felt the weight lifting, slowly, slowly, but it was happening and I was smiling better and pulling myself together.

         Now we're back here and It's like any progress I've made is disappearing and I can't catch happiness for longer than a couple hours at a time. I'm tired, I just want to go away.

       I've looked into online therapy, for now, I think I need it. Were trying 7 cups tonight, i will update you, my zero readers (which is how I like it), on how it goes.

hiring; a therapists

 I should probably find a therapist, but now I'm stuck at home and additionally broke, I'm pretty sure therapy is expensive, and I know that my insurance covers it but then my parents would see I'm getting therapy and they don't need to know, because they probably think it's fake, my mom would for sure yell at me, because what would people think. That's what it's about for her and that people are dying all over the world or that I didn't make enough of a sacrifice to have mental problems. For her it doesn't equate, she would be angry and maybe embarrassed. 

       There was this girl, Halle Daniel, in the 7th grade someone made a presentation about something anti-gay and I don't know which way she oriented but she felt attacked, and after school that day she went missing. Her friends didn't know where she had run off, but whatever they said tugged at my heart, and by the time my dad picked me up I was crying. So we gathered whoever was still left at school that day and we searched the neighborhood, but after about an hour we couldn't find anything, so they said they would call the cops and my dad told me we did everything we could and he put me in the car and started to drive us home. On the drive home, in the rain, as I was staring absent-mindedly out my window, I saw her, walking on the sidewalk across the street drenched in rainwater. We picked her up and drove her to my friend's house, where we calmed her down and got her mom to pick her up. 

        We never knew where she was heading that day, or what her intentions we're, but people talked and the common assumption was that she was going to kill herself, maybe it's true maybe it's not but its what my dad told my mom when we got home later that day. I was distraught, still processing but when she told me she was going to my cousin's house, I hoped in the car. On the drive there she picked a fight and I told her she couldn't yell at me because one of my friends almost killed herself today. She stopped the car in the middle of the street and yelled at me for getting involved and then she told me to never speak of what happened to my cousins today or to anyone ever or get out of the car and walk home. 

          There was another time, me, this time. It was about math, sometime in high school I think. I hated math, god so much, and I wasn't doing well. It was to the point where if I did bad on a test (bad being anything below a 70)  I would spend the day crying to my friends because of the fear I felt of telling my parents what I got. The yelling was constant and maybe they were fighting at the point to, who knows, probably. But I just wanted things to stop, I don't know what I was thinking but I knew a couple girls in my class who cut themselves and so after the fight I ran up to my bathroom and tried to do it. I don't know why really, I just needed a second to breathe and maybe not feel numb, but as I was failing to cut myself I forgot to lock my bathroom door and my dad walked in. He broke down, he thought I was trying to kill myself and then my mom found out, and while my dad was bawling his eyes, she got angry, I don't remember what she said but it was cold, that's what I remember, the anger. 

       I never spoke a single word about anything related to things that go through my head, my parents beg to know what's going on in my life all the time, I give them enough, a funny story here and there, but they don't know me, not really, because I  don't want them too. Not if what I want the most is to keep them as far away as possible, down to maybe 5 calendar day visits a year. So why should I give them more of me, when they've already taken so much if eventually, they won't be there anymore? What's the point? 

Complexity

       Something I did learn from my parents is how complex a single person can be. My mother's sweet and funny but she's also a manipulative pathological liar and daddy's supportive but he's also a drunk aggressive whore. So here we are, there are more than two sides to a person and it's something I have honestly struggled to come to terms with because how, the hell, do you react to someone like that? 

       It's not just the bad people in my life, it's everyone, I mean if you think about it, you and your variety of friend groups, you have different people for different sides of your personality. That's why people tell you not to mix your friend groups, like eating cake and ramen, a disaster, because each of them sees different sides of you. 

      Like a chameleon changes color, we change our personality for different people, to best thrive in the situations that they put us in. The best way to survive is the way we present ourselves, it's not always who we are and most of the time it's not even close, but in that situation, in that moments, it is who you tell yourself to be. 

       So you can understand how this makes everything more complicated. How it makes life more complicated. I mean fuck... it suddenly becomes like solving a Rubix cube to figure people out, to figure yourself out honestly, because at the end of the day the only person you can really control is yourself right? You can't make other people like you, you cant make them happy or angry or talk a certain way, or treat you a certain way. You can only do you, that's it, that's the card we get and we have only it to play. But it's hard when reading the other players just got 12 times harder. 

       I have a complicated relationship with my mother because when I'm around her constantly I don't know what personality I'm getting, how to react to things that happened yesterday with her when she was angry, and whether or not I have the luxury of bringing it back up today. Sometimes I am not fair with her, I know that, but I get to have bad days too, I get to be moody and I can't stop myself from reacting to things that happen. And in those moments I get her immediate reaction, even I would react the same. It's what comes after, the name-calling, the wishing that really under everything she wished I didn't exist. Then it's up to me to forget it because I just have to move past it and forgive her for her cruelty the next day, because otherwise it doesn't stop, and I can't take that.  

        Anyways, we got a little off-topic here, but the real question I have here is, what are we supposed to do? How do we see someone one way without seeing other parts, their demons, the side of them that's a monster, because I can't figure that out? It doesn't weigh even, I feel like that every time me and my dad get into a fight, because in the back of my I am screaming, how can he call me any less than I am after what he did. How do you not bring that back every single time. How do you move past it, how do you not scream internally when you get into a fight and fight the urge to drudge up the past. 

       I think I get these urges because I have never processed the emotions completely, I've never spoken about what happened with my parents, to the extent that it did, out loud to a single soul, ever. I know that that's a huge part of it.

back in business

       It has been a whole year since I started this blog and obviously as you can tell, keeping up with it hasn't really been a priority at all. In all honesty, I was scared to reopen this page, re-read what I was going through last year, it was dark and scary and extremely raw. That was the purpose of it, to be utterly honest, it was what I needed because I couldn't physically tell anyone what happened but I needed to get it out, to release some of the pressure on my mind so I could maybe start to move forward.

        I'm back now, a different person, but I still have the same wounds. The past haunts me to do this day and I don't know if that will ever change. I survived though, and I can keep surviving but I think I have survived enough to write what happened down and maybe share it with someone else. 

       No one reads this blog, I doubt anyone even knows it exists but I'm hoping that by collecting these posts together maybe one day in the future when I've lived enough, I can bound together with my life into a book, a memoir, and hope my pain makes someone else feel just a little bit less alone in the world. 

       I'm going to organize my thoughts and I am going to make a list below of all the things that have happened in my life worth writing about, and then I'm going to write about them, everything that happened, what I did and felt about it and clear cut it. 

Things to tell; 

- a new university, new city, new me; what it's like moving out 

- F R I E N D S and the perils of knowing other people 

- adulting 101, being a teenager that pays bills 

- my family sucks, what a surprise 

- living through a pandemic, suddenly everyone has a podcast? 

- I might have self-diagnosed my depression, but I'm pretty sure I'm right 

- discovering just how much trauma impacts your life and how going through it brings up even more 

Anyways stay tuned, ill be around and back in business