• Member Since 4th Apr, 2012
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  • 255 weeks
    On the Study and Application of Advanced Carnal Magic

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    5 comments · 925 views
  • 259 weeks
    They Always Come Back...

    This is... a little awkward.

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  • 266 weeks
    And Now Her Watch Has Ended

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  • 284 weeks

    I have no idea what I’m doing right now.

    The cavalcade of thoughts I’ve gone through in the last hour were as varied as the types of sand. Pipe wrenches, garbage, books, family, screaming, job searching, Dunbar’s number, grilling, cats, soul-crushing apathy and anxiety, debts, arguments, swearing. A lot of things in a short amount of time.

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    2 comments · 784 views
  • 287 weeks
    It's not a question of whether I should. It will.

    4 comments · 721 views

untitled · 4:30am Aug 19th, 2017

I have no idea what I’m doing right now.

The cavalcade of thoughts I’ve gone through in the last hour were as varied as the types of sand. Pipe wrenches, garbage, books, family, screaming, job searching, Dunbar’s number, grilling, cats, soul-crushing apathy and anxiety, debts, arguments, swearing. A lot of things in a short amount of time.

Perhaps this is to get this all off my chest. No, no ambiguity about it: it is. I can’t help but feel somewhat hesitant to do so anyway. I don’t like expressing myself, but at the same time, I tend to want to. If I were to hazard a guess, it’s a fear of negative reactions. I have this almost instinctual fear of saying what’s on my mind, something so ingrained in my psyche it’s impossible to alter or remove. I can partially get away with it online; the Proteus Effect is operating.

Already I’m rambling. Again, it’s something instinctual. I don’t feel so much as I think. Something bad can happen and I might find myself sitting in a chair, staring at a wall or a blank TV for hours. I’m comfortable doing so not because I’m trying to cool off, but because I don’t know how to feel, so I try to plot my next move instead. That rarely works out.

Exactly how much drama is one allotted in a blog post? I know there are twitter feeds and youtube channels dedicated to nothing else but drama, but things shift when it’s nothing but text on a page. A tweet is so short  it relies more on reactions. A video is a visual and audio medium far more than text. Drama is always something that happens to other people. You see it in news feeds and see people in trouble. Someone says the wrong thing or does something terrible. Readers, watchers, and consumers react.

I was told to my face I’m not wanted in this house any more. I live with my family, not roommates. I’ve gone through a lot of things since I started writing. I’ve gone through and finished college and had gotten a job. I’ve met some cool people and made some great things. My dad died in the middle of the night. A teacher tried to get me expelled and made school life a living hell. My cat, whom I loved more than most people, died. Pets are not our whole lives, but to some they make our lives whole. I quit a soul-crushing job to return to a family where half of them don’t want me around anymore.

This was not a spur of the moment declaration either. They were looking for housing elsewhere before. I’ve honestly tried to sooth the abrasive differences, but I’m either screwing up or doing the wrong thing entirely.

I remember an episode of Teen Titans and a guy named Val-Yor. He hated Starfire because he thought their race was inferior, and at the end of the episode, the best he could do was choke out that ‘you must be one of the good ones.’ Sometimes people’s minds cannot be changed.

Perhaps I’m the one at fault, perhaps they are. I don’t know anymore and am in no position to be objective about it. Calm and collected, cold facts. That’s what I thought could change anyone’s mind as long as you had a little time. Sometimes you can’t change people’s minds. Sometimes your own family hates you, a collective built to do the opposite. I moved out here because I thought I would receive some peace of mind. Back in the city was routine, an institution I didn’t like, and people I didn’t know. How ironic that it looks like I may return there. I can’t change hate, but maybe I can change the apathy there. I just don’t know if I will care enough when I get there.

I don’t know what I’m doing right now.

Report Journeyman · 784 views ·
Comments ( 2 )

Well, that sucks. :ajsleepy: I hope you manage to get your life sorted out. :twilightsmile:

Some people do move back with their family to discover or relearn things. That can still hold true for you, even if the things you learned were a kick in the crotch. Knowledge still helps you navigate through life.

I don't really know your experiences with the city, as I haven't read all of your blogs. This is news to me. I don't think I can offer any advice on the nature of the city, since I've spent over 95% of my life staying in the suburbs or college. But on the subject of people, I have to assume that there's people in the city that can add value to your life. I'm not sure how you'd want to go about finding new people to click with; a library, a cafe, a book club, a gym, a job. Then there's also just searching for local communities and nearby people with shared interests online.

I believe you on the shit-shitty feeling of losing an animal companion. Even when living in a busy household of 6, personal pet and familial pet deaths would always have me bawling. I got my first, 100% legal ownership pet back in May to keep me company in my townhouse apartment, Sebastian the domestic long hair. He has plenty of years left and has achieved healthy weight gain since I got him from Orphans of the Storm. But empirical data suggests that when he dies, I'm going to crash worse than the time I found out that my body had gotten to use to my citalopram medication while at the same time having to switch my major.

But I also know for sure that Sebastian has been needed to keep me from being locked inside my own head, and not getting cabin fever while living on my own for the first time. I needed something organic and out of my control to keep my brain engaged. Even when those events were things that pissed me off, like vomit and hairballs. (Right now I'm worried that his pulling at the carpet with his claws is doing lasting damage to the property value). And though it's easy to just write this before the fact, when he leaves me, I'm sure I'll need to adopt someone else to help me through.

So I say the same to you: find a new friend for you home. Intellectually, I'm sure you've reached this conclusion. But internally you might put it off because you feel like it paints you as shallow for trying, and probably failing, to replace your family member. But in your mind's eye, keep picturing your new resident as joining the ones that are already in your heart.

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