A-- texted me about the move. They asked me how I felt about it, and I tried to give them as honest of an answer as I could without straight-up venting to them. Fortunately, it made me realize I'm more excited than I'm letting myself be about it. Edmonton is going to be cool. I know everyone there who is making stuff. I'll have a lot of interesting friends, and who knows, maybe we'll be a part of a scene. If inner children exist, my inner 16-year-old is totally psyched right now. A-- and I talked about that. They wished me luck, which I'll need regardless. I finished a fair chunk of the packing tonight.
I think I'm getting bad again, with me in the middle of a break-up (shut the fuck up) and moving and all. My innards are in knots, like I got a leach on my soul or some shit. I'm constantly on the verge of crying. I'm overcompensating in obvious ways. Underneath that, my bad habits are running around in the night like toddlers off iced cappuccinos. My nightly routine consists of a single session of furious Twitter-aided masturbation (OnlyFans got old and/or too embarrassing quick) that is either prefaced or suffixed with actual binge eating. I usually make a turkey sandwich, consisting of a single thick stroke of mayo, an equal shot of ketchup, one cut of turkey, and a slice of marble cheese. I cut this sandwich diagonally and down it pretty much immediately. I follow this up with a protein shake, a bunch of salted almonds, half a roll of cookie dough, and so forth. I do this until I feel full and gross. I used to do some ridiculous version of this nightly when I was probably for-real depressed a few years ago, back in our Good Old Days. It was enough to noticeably gain weight - around 10-15 lbs. Now that I'm about to be very tight on cash in moving to Edmonton, I won't be able to pull this shit as often. At least, that's what I tell myself. I say 'tight on cash' as if I'm not being alloted an ungodly amount of upper middle class financial agency out there, with the folks vouching to pay for groceries, though I'm not sure how that will pan out. Regardless, I hope I won't be able to pull this shit as often, if at all. I don't want to feel this way forever.
I saw this YouTube Shorts video about the "reminiscence bump," which is the most influential years to one's sense of self, being between 10 and 30. I misinterpreted it as being between ages 18 and 25. That made me really worried. 18 to know have been unnecessarily glum. Read back through Anti-Rambles, like, it's clear I wasn't happy or doing much at all. This can't be it. This can't be all there is to my wonder years, despite all the actual wonder to them, which I don't mean to act like it doesn't exist. But I don't want to be sad and pretentious for the whole of this period. I want to be earnest and hopeful. I want to be a good person.
