nothing new, just another vent
why do i continue to entertain the part of me that really doesn't like me? why is that such a comforting truth to hold on to, that i truly feel like i'm undeserving, that once i understood for myself that someone else in my situation would make better use of my life than me, would be more grateful than me -- i'm always imagining a better version of me that isn't me, and then feeling bad that i exist, that my dad calls on facetime but i never want to answer, that i don't talk to my mom more, and when i do, i have the reoccurring thought that i need to save all of her recipes and life hacks down somewhere before i can't have access to them again -- i mean, who is this hypothetical child i'm trying to compare myself to? and as a full ass adult, i'm really still conceptualising myself as a child? it's hard not to think of yourself as one, especially around family, where the same dynamic has held up over time.
i'm just so tired of advocating for myself. blah blah, we're worth it so we should do it, but i'm cursed to be short and people are always underestimating how much space i take up when i am on the sidewalk (you're telling me that the 3 people walking in a row couldn't stand in a line behind each other so i wouldn't have to go onto the dirt to continue walking? that i was going to sit in that 5 inch space of the sidewalk length? i mean, i know i have adhd and am horrible with judging size and distance, but i leave much more room for other people -- guess i have napoleonic tendencies).
i'm tired of advocating for myself to my landlord and the downstairs bar. i was back home on the west coast for a few weeks, and some incident at the bar which resulted in the cops showing up and informing my landlord that i was making complaints. quite impossible to do when i'm literally not there. and by that, i mean that my landlord specifically said they mentioned my full name and where i fucking live! i mean, how fucked up is that? and this man is not worried for my safety, especially since they don't like me because i don't like when the music is so loud that my shit is vibrating? when i posted in the group thread that we've had since the beginning of the year for me to let them know to turn it down a bit, one of the bar owners told me not to call the cops on them again -- and i'm completely livid, i mean, what a paranoid idiot, always thinking i'm out to get them. somewhere in their line of business, i just have the feeling that something isn't right, but it doesn't really help when your landlord is an ex cop, and if things are shady down there, but it's paying his mortgage, i truly don't think he wants to do what's right -- or at least, what's right in my eyes. i haven't met anyone with a more hostile series of living situations in new york. it's no wonder i continue dissociating in order to make some part of my living conditions bearable. at any rate, i guess manic apartment searching season will begin soon for me. not like it felt like it ever stopped.
the farmer's market was a little disappointing this week. or i didn't make the best choices. and it definitely could have been soured by the fact that when i went to sephora beforehand, some old white woman working there told me that "clean beauty is in, asian beauty is out" because "china tests on animals". i was stunned by this person's racist drivel, especially before 11 am, and i'm literally fucking asian (so the best idea is definitely to say this in my face), but i let her have her stupid 'informative' moment because i was trying to tell her the reason why i hadn't been in a sephora in a long time. there was no need to go into that depth, but i went there anyway, so i took it as a lesson to stop being a fucking doormat! jesus fucking christ! i don't like to appear so shallow but genetics will definitely be on my side because i'm sure my mother was older than this woman, and she has much better skin.
it's felt hard to connect with people and i haven't really done anything for pride. just still feeling out of sync. still hating my job and things are probably not going to go well, but i don't even fucking care. like i'm in a weird housing situation right now and work is completely the last thing on my mind, especially if it takes 2-2.5 hours roundtrip to commute there and back per day. how does that make any sense? in corporate america, you gotta hold out for a severance, but any day with a job is still a decent day in its own way. never mind that the rest of your body and mind feel like they're fading away at times. and the fucked up thing is that the pay isn't even that spectacular, and somehow there aren't any sick days? i should feel a little proud of being able to sustain the job with minimal effort but my brain is completely dead because it no longer wants to be overworked in these conditions.
still struggling with taking the meds. i don't know why i continue to have this mental block. but i think it still relates to the fact that i don't feel like i should be cured of this suffering? it's true that i don't have a great relationship with myself because i don't have the confidence to leave this job and do something else, which is what i feel like i really need. i'm still playing under the parameters of what i think other people will like.