I don't know if I will live much longer. I can't imagine it, tbh. I don't want to just sound dramatic, but genuinely I feel like I'm close to dying. Maybe not really in the physical sense, although anytime I am honest about how my daily physical experience is, they freak out. And then I try to calm them down and I'm like it's normal, it's normal haha. It's not normal.
I feel like I'm unable to talk to anyone anymore. Like, it's become excrutiatingly obvious how different my values are to almost everyone around me, just on the basis of who is wearing a mask and who isn't. Disability justice and community care is a thing I super value and feel like I never fucking see. Like, how am I supposed to maintain friendships with people who I know don't give a shit if they infect me with something? My partner tells me I need to tell people my truth and let them know about how disabled I am and how it all came about from post viral conditions in 2017, and then got worsened from being sick in fall 2022. Like lol! 2 infections ruined my life. But I don't want to tell anyone because they're just going to think it was a freak accident or surmise about whatever condition I had before that made me at risk. And then they'll go about their lives unchanged. So then it comes down to me again to decide what my boundaries are around them and how to protect myself from them if I am to be around them. But if that's the case, I don't know if I want to maintain connections with them anymore, you know?
I feel stuck in the community my partner has because pretty much all of them do not mask. We've had them since before precautions were dropped, so I am contending with this in just the past couple years, although maybe really only the last year. I feel stuck because I have pretty severe PTSD and anxiety and even agoraphobic tendencies so it's laughably difficult for me to make new connections. I am fighting with my own self each day and don't want to expose people to that, and so I hide, but then episodes last days or weeks, and then I feel guilty for leaving someone unreplied to, and then it becomes a demand that triggers my PDA and then more time passes and then I feel guilty and ashamed and then more time passes and blah blah blah. The only people I have really been able to talk to for extended periods of time are people who are pretty traumatized themselves. And honestly there are only 3 people I really trust, one of whom is my partner, one of whom is my ex, and one of whom is someone I had a crush on for a while, so my partner isn't really comfortable with me doing much with them, and I am too scared (triggered) to really navigate the conversations about what is an ok way for me to interact with them so I have just kind of abandoned those connections as well.
I spend most of my day stuck in bed listening to my upstairs neighbor walk around and talk and laugh and I just lay there jealous and bitter the whole time.
I haven't talked to my therapist in 9 months. I mean, 9 months ago I started dealing with excrutiating abdominal pain. The weather is finally starting to feel like when my consciousness went to sleep. If that makes sense? I feel like I was asleep for 9 months. Or I keep feeling like I get to continue where I left off, and then I see that everyone is months ahead of me.
I've described PTSD before as a disorder of time. My sense of time has been warped and compressed so my past crosses over with my present and my future and no matter what happens, I am always then, I will always be then, but also the time that keeps going forward feels so fast to me, where I will spend what feels like a day, and then I see that to everyone else it was weeks. Where I showered twice, did laundry once, washed dishes maybe 3 times at best, and everything is molding, I'm out of food, my room is covered in trash-
I can't speak to that anymore.
I discovered a few years ago that horror is really comforting to me because it is as scary, or even less so at times, than my daily life. I realized yesterday a lot of the kinks I have are related to fear, and how they feel safe and good because they confront how scary things are. I get frustrated sometimes when I make art that's just accurate to my daily experience, and then people experience it as horror. But that's the thing. That's the thing that's the fucking thing.
I need help. I don't know what to do. I am not getting a lot of my needs met. I am constantly starving and desperately hungry and yet cannot get food for myself. And... honestly that's my main experience lol. I am barely struggling to survive, and so all my stress is around how am I going to get my next meal. That's so low on the hierarchy of needs.
I feel really stupid because there are horrible things going on in the world and I have so much privilege! Like genocide in Gaza and Hurricane Helene. There was a point where I kept giving so much money that my partner had a serious talk with me and told me I am one of the people who need help and I can't keep giving. But if not me, who? Already so few mask lol. There is not much community care going on.
My thoughts feel so disjointed. I've been triggered for at least 3 days. I had an alter come out that's an introject of my abusers. I've barely slept. I almost broke sobriety. I guess I have to take a moment to congratulate myself then, that I didn't break it. But honestly, that's just because I had a panic attack in the parking lot before I could go in and buy some liquor. Not really a conscious decision on my part. But instead of alcohol I've been drinking caffeine.
But because I'm in this space, I've not been a good partner. And I can feel the impact it's having on my partner. And I keep getting terrified they'll break up with me. And I already know if they do, I'm going to rehome my cat, give all my stuff to my ex, find someone to sublease my room, blow up all my relationships so no one wants to talk to me anymore, and then I'll go die quietly in some body of water. It should take a while for people to find out I'm dead. Maybe that's a fucked up way to die and will be even shittier to the people left behind, but I can't deal with anyone trying to stop me.
Honestly, I think one of the worst things I've done for my own personal health was work in suicide intervention. Not that I learned the "best ways to die" or anything lol, but that I and everyone working that job were so burnt out, and I already feel like a burden, so I cannot bring myself to ask for help. I know the ways to talk to someone and the skills to use so I talk myself through it, but honestly, I am never in my right mind enough to work it out properly, so I just sink deeper and deeper. And I will forever be torn up about the people I lost there.
I don't know. Something is deeply wrong. If there wasn't a shit ton of birthdays for my partner and their family and friends in September and October, I would have been dead already. I don't want to ruin someone's birthday. I don't want to ruin the holidays either. So I have to wait at least until January.
I need a doctor but I don't fucking trust doctors bro. They can be so fucking cruel. And I can't even go to them more than a couple times a year because my body can't really handle it, much less the amount needed for having a chronic fucking illness. I found doctors that can do home visits but I would have to call to be screened to see if I'm eligible for that service and I don't have hopes about it. And I just can't talk on the phone.
I don't know. I've been really dreaming of weddings though, and I kind of ruled that out because if I have to go on disability, the restrictions are really cruel for married couples. So I was wondering if I have a birthday party for once. Like one birthday party for the rest of my life. A fancy party that is basically a wedding, but just for me. I reserve a venue and everyone wears their favorite outfit, and has to wear a mask, and we have my favorite food, and music and alcohol and dancing. And I get to make a speech. And no one brings me gifts but they can make a speech about me if they want to.
Hm. I think what I want is a living funeral. Hm.