Chatbox thoughts

house

so I've been thinking about home and why I hate being in my room so much. But I never leave. and why I want my own house. and why turning 18 scares me.

I realized that the reason why it scares me is that I have heard of so many people who are so discontent with how much they have. People made this world out to be terrifying. and it isn't that bad. Life's confusing and should not be this complicated but that's fixable.  or at the very least it's workable.

But all those fears topped off with the fear of not being able to support what I want along with my needs is scary. I already live in a home that I can barely stand, no matter how nice it is. I don't want to live in what is familiar. I want it to be slightly familiar.

my aesthetics fight so much over what I should look like that day or dream my house to look like. cottagecore, 50s kitchen, sunflowers, my workroom, and anything else gets pushed into my mind. I love the house in my mind. Maybe because I'm not trapped there.

I think I need to move out, if only for my sanity. but I can't afford to move out for awhile. I feel so trapped in these four walls. but there are people on the other side. I don't know why I don't want to hang out with my mom. I have a good relationship with my mom. But I can't say everything I'm thinking around her. nor can I do everything anxiety-free. the feeling of another person being in my room distresses me.  it sucks.

I want my own place so I don't have to feel trapped in one room. I want to expand my prison so that I maybe don't feel like there's a gaping hole in my heart which is where my joy went.

2nd reality me just went through an episode in which she was doing some really harmful things to herself. thankfully she had someone to fight for her. but halfway through the fight, she realized, "I don't want to do this. I don't want to hurt anymore. But I can't let them help me." she felt ashamed of how she had hurt herself. I felt that she was scared that someone would care for her. I don't even know why. she doesn't know what it would look like.

I wonder sometimes if the reason I hold onto these stories in my head is that if I let them go I lose my coping mechanism, and I lose my way of taking care of myself.

Sometimes I just want my head to stop, so I don't have to deal with all of the awful thoughts roaming around. and sometimes I want the thoughts to come back because I don't know what I'll be without them. usually, that happens at the same time.

escapism seems to be a big thing in my life.

escape the basic life you lead. escape the room that holds you here. escape the people who might care. escape the help that would actually heal. escape the house that hurt you so. escape the gaping lack of joy.

what sucks is that I feel like I'm moving up and down. some days I'll feel super confident in myself and be on top of the world and other days I just want out, either of my head or this house.

I should probably be in therapy.