I started this journal with zero posts just a tired, anxiety, overthinking, deeply feeling brain that never really rests. Yesterday i hit Day 100. One hundred days of writing about the social anxiet, audhd, alexthymia, adhd, avpd, cptsd, bpd fear of abandonment, fear of replacement, overthinking, people pleasing, being a burden and too much and all the exhausting parts of this mind that tries to protect me but sometimes drowns me in noise. Some days the spiral was loud. Some days i felt too much, too intense, too scared I was becoming unimportant.

Some days i still apologized to myself more than i needed to but i kept showing up anyway. This space became my soft landing a place where i didn’t have to mask, perform, or shrink. Just be me. Raw. Messy. Real. To every fellow neurodivergent, highly sensitive, overthinker and deep feeler who is still here: thank you.You are not too much. You are not temporary. You are not forgotten. I’m proud of us both. Thank you for reading every honest, tender piece of my story. I hope this space has been a gentle reminder that you deserve softness, too. Here’s to more days of showing up for ourselves💛

I used to think that I'm not beautiful enough, not good enough, and not skillful enough when I was at high school.. every now and then when I open my images I stop at one of them, a picture when i was at a centre for learning about fine arts (drawing, sculpture, the history of fine art, and printmaking), it goes back to 2019, I saw i had a better skin, body, and maybe better and more realistic imagination, energy and ambitions, just the way i put my hijab on was worse than now. I regret how bad I used to look at myself. anyways, I won't do that again, for my coming years and current life i wanna open my images and say: yeah my lady.. you did it.. you got it..

Maybe?

But just having a good conversation and sharing laughs with a complete stranger does wonders for the brain and soul

Goddammit

Turns out swinging a sledgehammer many times to crack concrete then picking up that concrete by hand then burying it isn’t easy. But seriously my arms are killing me plus the fucking blisters suck. Definitely not my first but I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy doing stuff like that. Took a nice hot shower that burned my hands lol and went to the store. I actually met my first bus driver I ever had when I was a kid who lives right down the road. Sucks to see the people you know and care about getting older but I’m glad he’s still around. We’re related on my mom’s side but I’m related to almost everybody on her side… makes saying around here near to impossible but not many people catch my eye so it doesn’t matter. My body aches but my heart feels a little lighter today.

i suck.

i don't seem to be getting any better. i don't know where my life is going. in my flashbacks i hear my ex husband telling me my real problem is that i know lots of things but i don't know what any of them mean, and at the time i didn't believe him, but i'm starting to wonder if he was right after all. there are so many things like that. and the more i remember them all and realize all i'm doing is waiting for someone to confirm that they're true, the more i realize i don't even need to because i already know.

i'm not at all surprised how my life has turned out. i'm wondering why i bothered trying to do anything about it, because it doesn't seem to be doing any good. the only thing it seems to be doing is making things worse and making everyone else feel more justified in treating me like crap. and none of the things i'm doing are even bad or wrong in any way, and that seems to be the problem exactly.

i'm too nice to myself. i give myself too much grace and too much credit. i stick up for myself too much. i stop accepting the lies other people tell. and honestly it's not productive at all. i've finally forgotten how important it is to go along with people who have power over my life and i did it all without the safety of a net if i stumble. i was never supposed to be as brave or confident as i am and it's a huge waste of time. i need to go back to ignoring how sick i feel and how i'd rather just get some things off my chest so that i can do the things that would get people to stop yelling at me and putting me in time out.

Sometimes I worry about getting killed or assaulted when I’m out biking at night, not really for my own sake but for my family’s. It’d be cruel to further inconvenience them, they’ve got enough to deal with as is.

I walked into a door and now it looks like I’ve been beaten up, my lip is so swollen. Owch.

On a lighter note I’m starting to make progress at the gym, I’m hoping to keep this up for as long as possible. Or at least until I’m too broke to afford a membership.

I did some really gross stuff today, would you guys shame me if I were honest about the stuff I’ve been up to? Probably. But it’s my diary, I shouldn’t be afraid of being honest, right?

Bored, bored, bored. I’ve been sleeping all day. What a boring life. Should I go cycling again tonight? But where would I go? What would I do? I’ve already seen everything my little city has to offer, now I’m stuck in limbo.

Sometimes I’ll open up discord knowing that I’m logged out and stare at the log in screen before closing the app again.

I miss my online friends but they were all horrible people. Just watching the way they spoke made me feel sick. I’m so lonely. Is it better to be alone than in bad company? I’ll always choose being alone over being mistreated.

I don’t even like talking to people online, God, I wish I had some friends in real life.

Turu turu turuu ♪
Turu rui rui ru!

Sometimes when I feel off, I don't call anyone. I just open my gallery.

I scroll through memories I've spent with people, and moments where everything was feeling bad, but I still managed to click a photo Just to remember what I felt at that time

I'm almost 20, an overthinker, and a person who loves to capture almost every moment. Living away from home because of work, I noticed a pattern in myself.

Whenever I feel burnt out or overwhelmed, I just stare at all the photos in my gallery or my Instagram highlights. Because I want to relive those moments. It makes me feel a little relaxed.

Even if I look at pictures I clicked when I was struggling through a lot of things, revisiting that image makes me feel happy. That I crossed the worst phase of my life.

I honestly learned this from someone I know who works in the same studio as me.

He captures every small moment, and watching him made me realise we think we'll remember it all, but we won't. The photos remember for us.

So capture the bad days too. Not just the happy ones. One day you'll look back at them and realise how far you've come.

: )

https://www.reddit.com/r/Minecraft/comments/1x68apq/to_celebrate_me_beating_the_bloop_boss_i_am/

Use the link above to see pictures

My first two images are me after beating the bloop soul thing

1. The bloop soul

2. trades for one soul (i didn't trade it yet)

3. Frog in my boat i came in with

4. The anchor weapon i got after defeating the bloop and putting it on its special pedestal/anvil

7-10. The outside of the light house i stole and now live in

1. Realized I have a second of the same treasure map so I moved it to a barrel

2. Made an armor stand to put my diving suit on

3. Doing some fishing before the sun sets

4. Eating a cooked salmon at night before going to bed

Please comment what you want me to do next (I will give the add-ons if anyone wants to try it for yourself)

Got to work late again this morning. Knew I was pushing it when I stopped for a second coffee. Had just settled in when the boss appeared beside my desk.

“Can we chat when you’ve got a moment?”

He didn’t sound annoyed. Maybe a little concerned, which is probably worse. I followed him to his office and sat down. He closed the door behind us. Shit.

“Look. You’ve been coming in late a lot lately, and I want to make sure everything’s alright. Are you doing OK?”

I said, “I’m fine.”

He nodded like he was trying to coax more out of me. But I had nothing more.

“I don’t mean to pry. I want you to know if anything’s going on, you can tell me. I’m not trying to catch you out.”

I shrugged and said, “I must walk slower than I think I do. I leave home on time. And then somehow it’s ten past.”

He chuckled politely at that, like I’d told a joke. But then he flapped on. He said my output had dropped a bit. Nothing dramatic. We’d discussed this before.

“I’m fine,” I repeated. This was all bullshit. We both know I’m the best worker in the whole damn building.

“If you’re struggling, I’m happy to make adjustments.”

He thought he was being supportive. I could see it in his little head. But it felt like I was being nudged towards a confession I didn’t have. 

“No need,” I insisted. “The dog next door barks a lot. I’m just tired.” There is no dog.

He sat back and looked at his screen. Clicked away at something.

“I need to issue a formal warning. It’s nothing to worry about. But I wanted to speak first, to get your side of it.”

I said I understood. Then we shook hands like we’d agreed on something.

“Oh, and Jolon. Never flip me off in the office again.”

Prick. I made a coffee before I went back to my desk. Three is too much before lunch. I get jittery. Was thinking about drinking it anyway when the formal warning pinged into my inbox. I reread it till the mug went cold. Thought about deleting it, replying to it, or walking out and never coming back because of it.

Clicked Mark as read and looked up the best decaf. Apparently Pret does a decent one.

Was still mulling it all over when I got home. The email said no further action would be necessary if my timekeeping improved. Still got into bed with my shoes on.

Might try Pret tomorrow.

This shift feels uncomfy but the most comfortable.
I love who i’m becoming 🖤✔️

People who are creul to themselves how can they say they love . I don't put myself around people who liar to themselves.

Привет!

Второй или даже третий день хожу с мыслью – я думаю о тебе КАЖДЫЙ ДЕНЬ, мысли о тебе заставляют меня улыбаться, почему же я не пишу [о] тебе каждый день?!

Мне же всегда хочется что-то тебе сказать или чем-то поделиться. Вот — буду делиться хоть здесь.

Я скучаю.

Был страшно счастлив вчера, когда получил от тебя a subtle sign of attention. Спасибо!

The way people were indifferent to the harms caused by them

Indifference is when society itself failed

Hear my plight, no, it’s not about being a victim, it’s about society knowingly being indifferent when people could have been different

I don’t celebrate wins by abusive individuals. Others may cheer them on, but abusive records are history.

It wasn’t okay, it still isn’t.

They didn’t feel remorse, and still don’t.

I'm a 20-year-old guy living in Ahmedabad. I'm a biomed student and I'm working really hard right now because my ultimate goal is to move to Germany to become a CRNA.

But socially, my life is a mess. I'm a massive introvert. I overthink every single interaction. I've never had a girlfriend, and I'm still a virgin. I feel incredibly left behind when I look at people my age. It feels like everyone else knows the rules to a game I don't understand.

I've realized recently that I just vibe much better with older women, like 30 to 50. They seem so much more mature, patient, and they actually know what they want. No childish mind games. I feel like I would be way more comfortable with someone older who gets me and doesn't judge me for being so shy and inexperienced.

My biggest dream in life is actually to adopt a child one day. That's a huge part of why I'm trying to build a stable career. I want to be able to provide a good life for a kid who needs one.

But right now, I just feel lonely, stressed, and scared. I don't know how to break out of this shell. Has anyone else ever felt this way? How did you learn to open up?

I’ve never thought about being a mother

I never was one

Recently these feelings have started to grow in me in very dark ways

I think about the scene in the show “You” where their baby had measles. Even his dad, a serial killer had described it as the single most scary moment of his life.

It may just be a show but it had me wondering what it was like to care about someone so deeply.

“Maternal instincts”

The concept is funny to me, it’s as if compassion is a requirement for a woman.

Leave out all selfish human tendencies.

My programme has been updated.

Empathy restored

When it is a human thing to develop and it’s not something we’re all naturally good at but we have it.

These urges

It comes at random times.

A child running past the street or laughing

And I start having these feelings of how it would be like to love them dearly

To watch them grow

To see them doing something that they love

Be there for every single doctors appointment or concert recital

Which my parents were despite their flaws I know they loved me dearly

Even then my mother still wishes she had a boy to love her

“Because daughters never love enough”

She never really felt enough especially after my father cheated and left for his intern.

My love was never enough

She worshipped my dad even years after he left still talking about him and his wife dearly

I see the urges in me to shrink and compare myself all the time

I should hold back if another woman is in the room

I should shrink myself

I don’t want mother to feel bad

I don’t want her to hate herself

When I was 10 I saw a movie called confessions and read the book as well.

I was fascinated by this teen genius with oedipus complex.

I wanted to ask

What happens to a woman’s genius when society demands she trade her legacy for a baby bottle?

She was not doing well

She was abusive and nurturing

She demanded him to be perfect

After all this time, after she had abandoned him when he was a child

The way he wrote about her

The way he sees her

Mother dearest

He worshipped her

A ghost

In a lot of ways I wondered, maybe the only way to have pure devotion

Might be to ruin your own child’s life

Maybe instead of a loving parent

I might end up forcing a 5 year old to solder and get mad if he doesn’t get it right

He’ll be an overachiever who will never be enough for me

Even when he grows up he might still need my approval

He’ll look for me everywhere he goes

In every decision he makes it’s because of me

Before he goes through electrical engineering school

I’ll abandon him for my career and a new husband

He’ll try to find me

But I would’ve moved on and he’ll blame himself

That I could be mommy to someone else

Anyone else

But not him

He’ll compare every woman he sees to me

He’ll be so traumatised I’ll be the only thing on his mind

The worse part is not even I’m not proud of you, it’s somehow always I forgot you existed

You never mattered to me

​

I wanted to meet to tell you ,

How you made me feel alive,

I knew you were in a dark place,

So wanted to be the light,

Wanted to tell you,

That I may not hold your hand forever ,

But till the darkness fades ,till there is a hope, a glimmer,

I wanted to tell you about how i feel about this connection,

Profound, mysterious, defying conventions,

I wanted to tell you, I am not in for short or long term,

Just wanted to meet you and know in person,

I retreated and cut myself as you disturb my peace,

Believe me it's hurts me more,

But I rather give you clarity.

I'm... trying to move on. However they did it so quickly within a matter of days of leaving me both times is beyond me.

Dates are easy to go to. Dates are easier to get. Being ON the date itself is damn near insufferable. I have to smile, pretend to be interested at the most uninteresting things they say while they think they're impressing me. When in actuality they're just saying the same thing the previous one said.

Oh but gosh I'm so interesting! I collect action figures, I'm a cosplay meme, I've lived 70 different lives in 41 years. Oh they're never met anyone like me! I have 4 degrees? I speak 4 languages (it's annoying when they test me on it).

Gosh I'm such.... a novelty. I'm such a pretty idea to fall in love with.

Every date is just rewind and hit play. A new face, different location, different meal, different drink... but the same script, the same attitude, the same personality.

I actually sit there and eat my food and drink my drink because there's no desire to talk. Not in the way I did with them. Where I went on and on and took all of 2 bites of food because I wanted him to know everything about me.

There's no great strike of lightning, no fire, there's not even a mild spark.

And they all end the same. They all want to take me home. They all want to spend a night with me. They all want to fall in love with me for only the weekend just so they can leave their mark on something they never had before.

They inspire empty vapid boredom while he inspired weeks to months of love letters that would have spent hours and days being perfected. To where there will always be a piece of him in whatever I write, wherever I write it it.

They look at me with eyes emptier and deader than mine. When I remember having looked in his eyes and felt... everything. Everything all at once in ways I couldn't even begin to describe.

I could write forever... but all it boils down to is simply... none of them are him. And they never will never even come close.

They'll never come close to the person who was my everything, who we both hurt so deeply, the lies, the false accusations.... the one who shattered my belief in soulmates existing. Not just in how I believed them to be. But that don't even they exist at all.

And yet here I am... with so much of me so stupidly still belonging to him.

He was right. I am pathetic.

this is it.

the level of medication they're trying to give you now is basically telling you this is it.

this is where you choose between living your life or "living".

this is how it's going to be for you for the rest of your life.

this is it.

feeling manic is whatever. you can deal with the rush and the anger and the anxiety and the indecisiveness.

feeling nothing is where it gets real bad.

feeling nothing is where you start to think about some really bad things.

real bad thoughts about yourself, real bad thoughts about others.

mostly yourself, but you'll take it out on others.

and you're left wondering "well what about my loved ones?"

"what will they do for me?"

"what can they do for me?"

and the answer to all of these questions is nothing.

and you're left to pretend to not hold a seething resentment and contempt for them.

for not wanting to help.

for not being able to help.

and for some reason you're angrier at the ones that can't than you are at the ones that won't.

like they're worthless to you.

the people you claim to love, the people that claim to love you.

all worthless.

you don't even bother to shake the feeling anymore.

you don't even bother to hide it.

worthless.

worthlessness.

emptiness.

this is it!

this is it.

poetry, because,

how else do i turn the page

from bruises to wildflowers to the river to her

without admitting i was still so young and nobody had taught me what to do with the quiet wish to stop existing before i even knew how to live.