Trauma Sucks

I swear to god there's so much that I wanna do. So much that I feel called to do. So much I wanna write, for one thing. But my whole life has been tainted by trauma.

I wanna write a long OctaScratch fic about trauma recovery, but it's a bit of a paradox, because I need to recover enough from my trauma to be able to write, and writing is one of the things that'll help me recover from trauma. Chicken, meet egg.

And it doesn't much help that I've often overextended myself helping other people with their trauma and then generally those people aren't around to help me for one reason or another.

My OctaScratch stuff revolves around the fantasy of having someone around that I can actually rely on. I write about cuddles because I really wish I had someone to actually cuddle IRL. It's been years.

If Octy represents all the pain I've been through, Vinyl represents who I would be if I'd never been abused. I'd not only be happier for my own sake, but I'd also be more able to help other people without exhausting myself.

Why is life so hard? What a stupid universe we're living in. Somebody outta fix it.