don't make me go back there again
I'm afraid of the world again and can barely stand the thought of being perceived in anyone's eyes. In the past few days I have gone back to hurting my own feelings and then contemplating if I'm the monster in my own life. I suspect there's some truth in this.
I always knew there was a breaking point, an expiration date, of how long I'd be able to willingly keep my job. I keep hoping they'll give me severance but the truth is I think I've done too good of a job to be let go, and impulsive feelings like wanting to quit should best be considered in a sober, emotionally stable mindset (-- though, how can that mindset ever be found if the primary association of this job has been stress, sacrifice, and resentment?). I feel worse when I hear the predicaments of those around me, tell myself to shut up, it's really awful I'm having these feelings, or, why don't I feel more grateful in being in this position -- but it's not helpful to bring these thoughts in, and I often feel like I struggle between decentering myself and checking in after dissociating? Somewhere, my mind is still stuck in 2020, and I can see the budding sprouts grow from my windowsill garden of leftover cans used as pots, or the light filtering in the window to hit the sheet of paper for my watercolours, and all the daylight hours spent fixing Instax pictures in sections of my apartment like a little gallery wall, and then in the evenings I'm working, but I'm actually thinking about how guilty I feel, being so far away from home while my mother started chemotherapy and radiation, waking up belly full of anxiety and dry heaving in the middle of the night, but I survived that, the nausea came to pass, and now I keep carrying that guilt with me to all of the relationships I encounter, wondering how I can still be present when I felt like such a failure, and my mother's alive, she's quite well, but my partner's mother isn't, and these twin narratives of cancer already make me feel like I'm failing to be there for my partner while she goes through this again, she was her mother's caretaker, and I evaded that whole role. And for what? This job isn't worth it. Even if the job had nothing to do with my personal life at the time, I can't see how I can get past my own resentment here, and a new start could be good for me. I have to get out, I have to, I have to, I have to, and it's not even a big deal, it just feels like a big deal since it's so unusual in my generation to have held a job in one place for so long, especially for a first one. All I'm doing while remaining here is making myself sick while delaying the inevitable.
Signs of Spring are cropping up and I know I'm not the same person I was last year because I can't feel that optimism and joy for greener days ahead. When we say that the days are 'longer' with Daylight Savings, it's all a lie anyway, we lost an hour, my sleep pattern is fucked, I can't believe I cried for the past 2 days where it made me incapable of doing anything, are you fucking kidding me? I don't really fault myself, there are so many things in the world to be depressed about, I waver dangerously between hope and despair, delusion and derision, earlier I cried using oil pastels and how soft and beautiful they were, then I cried to have luxuries that I wasn't fully enjoying, and then cried that my adult life supports government funding of destruction of other countries, like how it did to my parents' homeland, I don't want to fix my attitude of being cynical here, but I also can't keep punishing myself like that.
As the Nexplanon wears off I can start to understand my experience of PPMD -- so you're just telling me that people with uteruses are just stuck in a fucked up hormone cycle that intensifies what baseline feelings are already present? Or that the combination of hormone birth control and Prozac actually keeps things regulated for me? It's not fun, but I guess it's clear, so what's the future of that even going to look like here, huh?
It's really one of those nights I don't want to sleep because I do not want what the morning brings (work). I really need to leave my job. If I saw my blog as a stranger I would encourage myself to want more and better for myself. Especially if I already saw all the omens, and there were so many of them, though I've had enough stream of consciousness dumping in that realm today. I try not to read too much into symbols but my mind loves to grasps these patterns, to see things beyond what they could be, a blessing but a curse in disguise as it usually ends up as paranoid fodder. I laughed at one point typing all of this because I wanted to seem 'normal', but what does that even mean, anyway, and why am I still obsessed with that concept (as it applies to my personality and interests) decades later? This is all an outlet for my unhinged thoughts anyway.