Wow what a shitty End for a vacation. Successfully ruined another persons day again just by trying to open up and share my fears and emotions in hopes to clear my anxiety that I had since yesterday...
But noo triggered somewhat of a fight and anxiety for the other side too.
Aaaaaand thats why I usually bottle things up. When I talk about it I piss people off or make them sad and that worsens my anxiety. Even when I thought hard about how I say it and what I say, it always goes down the wrong pipe and ends with the worst outcome...
Why do I even try again ana again it always ends in disappointment: either I'm a bad trigger or I'm as important as fucking chairs. After all im only good for listening not for talking about feelings. I just muck things up...

I feel like such a human failure...

Not like anyone cares but I'll blog it here anyways... Cause here at least I can pretend ppl care... I'm Ending vacation with a bad migraine attack and possibly an incubating flu. Great. Not like my I overall declining health has been enough strain in my body and mental health.

Maybe I shouldn't have made plans for Halloween at all... Just ended with a ruined evening and feeling bad about being the cause of it...

Great feelings

Is it wrong to not like someone even if you have not met them and only go by hearing from another person.....but you get the feeling this person is not good and is trying to take away the person that i love....im confused about all of it

feeling a bit hungry :X should go eat an apple

That feeling when Finally having time to sit down and actually rest with nothing to prepare or plan feels like submerging your ears in the water at a loud swimming pool...

I have really reached my limit this week mentally and physically. I often struggle with post summer burnout in September/October but this week I had to function perfectly during work and so many social obligations whereas I had things to prepare for or join in. I didn't get any real me time to unwind because I had to run errands and prepare things til late in the night. Never getting to bed before 3 or 4 am... I ran on sleep deprivation an burnout. Yesterday I was close to the point of breaking down exhaustion. I felt my knees almost give out in the store... Now it's finally over I have finally time for me with nothing to prepare for others. I will probably have a hardcore social shutdown but thb I need it

So, I know that when you watch a video or whatever on social media the algorithm shows you more that are similar to what you've already seen. Right now on my feed, it appears that the far left is finding that cancel culture works both ways, and is not happy about it. I've got videos all over the place of mostly 20 something SJWs sobbing and wailing after supposedly losing their jobs because they posted video of themselves celebrating the Kirk shooting and/or posted absolutely vile comments on it, and someone sent screenshots to their employer. I'm not going to say watching them doesn't bring a warm fuzzy feeling to my withered black heart, but I wonder...these people are grown ass adults. Why would they throw a screaming tantrum over losing a job, especially considering they deserve far worse than unemployment? And if they were going to do that, why video it and post it online? What is there to gain from showing the internet their meltdowns? Back when I was that age, that would have been more like a mean-spirited prank a "friend" who didn't actually like you much might play on you than something you'd do yourself. I'm pretty sure a lot of these videos are about as real as Stephen King's apology, but again... To what end?

It seems a shadow of misfortune follows me. I've come to expect it: a fleeting moment of light is always chased away by a familiar storm, pulling me back under with brutal force.

What truly unnerves me is the silence within. The emotional echo of these disasters has faded to nothing. I am a dry well—events that should summon a flood of tears now barely register. Is this resilience, or is it erosion? My psyche, to save itself, seems to have severed the wires, leaving me feeling like an spectator in my own tragicomedy, muttering, 'This can't be real.'

I observe my life as through a thick, silent pane of glass. The impact is muted, the meaning distant. I am a curious stranger to my own apathy, asking, 'What happens when you simply have nothing left to feel?'

Is this emptiness making me stronger, or is it the void before the collapse? I built these walls stone by stone for protection, but now they encircle me. They keep the world's anguish out. The question is no longer about weathering the storm, but whether I am fortified within a sanctuary, or entombed within a cell of my own making.