My suicide had been two years in the making when I decided not to follow through at the last minute.
Over the past decade, I've written poems, books, short stories, fanfiction and hundreds of thousands of words, but nothing felt complete. This coll...
Broke my no-sleeping-pill streak last night for the first time since the 5th. Slept through the night without snivelling myself to exhaustion. A win is a win!
My second week of being twenty-eight was fun-central and I saw people I love every day and I felt miserable.
Kept catching myself forcing a brave face when moments of clarity tried to drag me under. The Bad Emotions button has been switched off for most of twenty-eight, as a precaution, but it keeps glitching. Letting myself feel is hard when it's this awful. Realistically, statistically, things will eventually get better, but that feels like a lie. Even if it's true, best case scenario, that's still months away, en ik ben aan het einde van mijn latijn. I'm running on the love I have for others. Being alive feels like punishment for my cowardice.
Sometimes, I talk to myself as if I'm speaking to her:
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Because she's still me, just blissfully ignorant and much younger.
Thinking of her— of 'we' and 'us' —brings me a sort of comfort. It's always been us— me and that too-curious-for-her-own-good girl, and she's too small to be burdened by anything other than her next arts and crafts project. I need to hold my head up so she can be proud of who she'll grow into. This helps, sometimes. Usually, the pressure to perform swallows me whole.
I am inevitable. The sooner we come to terms with that, the easier the months ahead will be.
Calling my health insurance tomorrow to request waiting list mediation.
23:34pm Going to be telling myself this until I believe it btw:
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Negative Nancy #30 — 15/11/2024
Not doing good. Spent half the day sleeping, the other half eating (my new food hyperfixation: green chili peppers stuffed with feta).
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Negative Nancy #31 — 16/11/2024
Did little walking this week, made the girls spoons, dehydrated some stinging nettle. Had lovely chats with cows and rigid standoffs with sheep. The farm dogs don't bark at me anymore. Humble brag. The horse I always love looking at is no longer wearing the blanket that makes them look like a zebra. A tragedy. I prefer walking in the dark, very predator energy of me, but then I DESPISE walking on gravel which, in turn, is decidedly prey-like. Hostile takeovers have occurred in almost all fields, Canadian geese are now public enemy number one. Herron fly in slowmotion, even when startled, and that is just wrong.
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All my trousers are sagging off and it's stressing me out. Tried washing them at 90 *C so they'd shrink, to no avail. Leggings don't have belt loops so I've had to BIND the waist with a scrunchie and it looks ridiculous but I refuse to buy anything new until I've reached a more stable weight.
(***Hes, niet lezen, naald en wond trigger warning***) Whilst wood whittling the girls' spoons, I cut myself pretty deep on my index finger. It's been three days and it still hasn't closed up. What I SHOULD do is either try wound glue instead of just closure strips, or get stitches at the hospital. What I WANT to do is test out my taxidermy stitching skills on myself. Two stitches would suffice and I have a surgical needle and all the necessary knowledge to do it safely. Ran the idea by my dad and he was not a fan. Food for thought. (***trigger end***)
Herfstconcert tonight! Really looking forward to it. Missed it last year.
Made a mistake in my matcha white chocolate chip cookie recipe on Thursday, and it's had me in a chokehold since so I've basically been baking for three days straight.
Had a moment today where for the first time, I regretted telling everyone. Now cutely packing up the cookies for Hes and Woldy and Hes' parents. V. excited to hand them out.
Also I keep having dreams about Lou??
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Negative Nancy #32 — 17/11/2024
00:42am Thoroughly enjoyed the concert. Some social interactions went well, I said all the right things judging by people's reactions. Others went abhorrently wrong, to the point where thinking about them now makes me feel ill.
It was raining cats and dogs the whole night and multiple people had suggested catching a ride with H & W and picking up my bike the following day, but I felt so emotionally drained from masking that by the time they were heading off, the need for peace and quiet was a desperate one.
Cycled the forty minutes home along a route that wasn't really illuminated so every time a car passed by, I was blinded by the headlights and crashed into the brush. Got soaked to the bone but generally had a blast. I love feeling like a phantom in the dark.
Came home and everyone was already asleep, so pulled off my wet clothes and just laid on the floor for a bit.
17:31pm Was heading home from a lovely hangout with Bella and my suspiciously hairy nephews, rushing to catch my train, when I saw a roll of painter's tape rolling past. I picked it up and looked around, thinking someone must have dropped it. I offered it to the man closest to me and he gave me the strangest look, like he was inclined to accept but not totally sure? I turned off my music and a lady sitting on a bench nearby said the man had been kicking it around the platform. Grossed out, I put the tape back on the ground, and went on my merry way. My hand felt like it was on fire with how many diseases I must have picked up from holding the beastly thing. And the man was now following me around with the most salacious smirk known to mankind. Asking questions and generally just being an invasive specimen. Kindly requested he skedaddle out of my personal space, and when that did fuck all, turned on the crazy eyes and told him to go play with his tape. That helped, but I had forgotten to pack wipes or handgel so basically held up my contaminated paw I could wash it at home (the educational videos H management forced us to watch on the physical spread of a virus have scarred me for life). Was stressed out for no reason the rest of the night and didn't fall asleep until 3am.
