🤶🏻

so i had a dream that tony stark was my adopted dad. it was great and he had all kinds of secret labs and stuff. he had some secret places underneath the school too where i would go whenever i needed a break. the rooms would change to suit my needs, like  the walls could change into different colours and textures and doors could appear to different rooms (one of which was a simulation room for video games cough cough). but then my principal (who was a different guy from my principal irl) started to catch on to what i was doing. he managed to sneak in to the secret passageways underneath the school while i was going it and he was like "aha! i knew u and tony had some secret technology!" and i was like "no no what are you talking about?" and using my mind i told  the place to get rid of all its doors and close off the hallways to the more important places. and i managed to get rid of the guy but he knew what he saw so he announced on facebook or something that tony stark was doing a bunch of top secret tech stuff and that he (the principal) would get to the bottom of it and expose all the cool shit tony was doing. so i try to ignore him and just go about my regular classes. but this dude just won't give up. he creates this laser thing that he says can detect underground rooms and scan them and he puts it right outside the school and sits in it but im trying to convince him not to do it. im like "dude. there's nothing down there. you're just making a fool out of yourself" but he won't listen. so i sabotage the thing without him knowing and it breaks. he's  upset but not giving up yet. so i go back to classes and at the end of the day i go to tony stark's house bc i live there since he adopted me. he welcomes me back home and i tell him about the wild shit the principal's trying to pull and he's like "oof. don't worry i'll figure it out." and then i chill with his wife and eat some food and then go hang out alone in my room. their house was huge btw. so then i'm alone, tony's out doing something, idk where his wife is. and this little shit of a principal comes into my room and is acting like he's the boss around here and demands i tell him about tony's top secret technology. but i'm not giving any of it to him, and i climb out the window. but turns out the window i climbed out of led to an identical room. so the dude starts trying to climb through the window all the while demanding i tell him about it bc he's the principal. so i climb out the other window in that room and it leads outside. i ran to one of the outside entrances to the secret tunnels underneath tony's house and hide out in there. i find tony in a lab and im like "dude, this guy won't give up. what are we gonna do?" and he's like "ah i'll figure it out." so then some other events happen, i try to foil the principal's plans to find out tony stark. but after a while, when he's at his own house, i go there and start digging in his yard. and the dirt is kinda sandy? and multicoloured? i don't even know why im digging there but i am, with just my bare hands. and like in a few minutes i've got a 10 feet deep hole, 10 feet wide and long. then the principal comes outside and he's like "what are you doing?" and im like "oh im just digging a hole so i can make u a secret tunnel" and he starts getting emotional like "that's,,,,, all i've ever wanted" and he's crying now and i just kinda,,, ignore it. and he goes back inside. then tony comes by in some flying machine and he's like "get in, we're moving" so i get in and then we never saw the principal again.

i still look at my discord avatar and i get. a spike of pain and compassion to a person who tried to shove a couple of knives in a power outlet thinking death is and always was the only option. this is a terrible feeling. it is sad. it is also sad that this person was me. i wish i didn't have to go through this, but that's basically all i have to say. it doesn't matter if i deserved it or not, i am going on with my life and accepting that it happened and what exactly it was and that it wasn't okay. i hope this is a start. 

funnily enough, yesterday, when i posted this picture all over my social media, in between crying on the floor and running around the flat holding one or two knives, putting them down and taking them again, i didn't even realise, how spot on that was. now it all makes sence. my situation is, in some way, awfuly similar.

there is nothing threatening my freedom right now. my partner might have been exposed to some very problematic views, but he is not evil to the core. he does not lack common sence and empathy, and i can't really doubt that. he is also showing no signs of neglecting me or planning to do do. surely, some of my friends can't figure out enough time for me, but they don't hate me and don't want to end our friendship either. i am not getting fired anytime soon, not if i follow the simplest instructions. even my parents aren't home, and my dead friend is already dead, and i have processed this. i repeat, there is nothing in my life right now that can threaten me, decide for me what to do, trigger my anxiety, ptsd and depression. 

in a sence, there never was. 

but i didn't know that. all this time i had all this depression and anxiety, which were coping mechanisms on itself, shielding me from the truth, from the painful cries of me as a child which haven't stopped for 20+ years and which were entirely to painful to process back then. but it's different now. i saw this child, i talked to him, i think we have more or less walked through our anger, grief, painful feelings in non-letal doses. it was hard, but it made sence. anxiety and depression were hard, but they made sence. what was underneth was hell, and it barely made any sence, and it was unleashed, and it was over, and now nothing makes sence. 

i found the source of my pain that day, and i let it manifest through panic attack after a conversation with my partner, through a depressive episode after my meeting got cancelled, and i thought i might do some crafting despite all this. but then i dropped the pigment and all hell broke loose. i felt like an infant again, abandoned by the whole world for making a horrific mistake. the only sensible thing to do at that moment was suicide. just like it always was, deep at the back of my head. i knew my existing was wrong, and i knew why, i just could never face it. i ran around with knives, browsing suicide chats, flooded with this feeling of being unworthy at life that i faced so clearly now. i knew deep down i can't die, i can't even hurt myself, but i did all those posts, ran around with knives, browsed suicide hotlines because it made sence. because that feeling was always there, it was me, and i dropped the pigment and it could NOT get back into the can no matter how hard i tried and it was a good enough reason to end it all and

and then my friend wrote "maybe use a brush?".

i used the brush to get the pigment back in the can again, and it was over like that. 

suicide stopped making sence, because my mistake was fixed. the crying child stopped abruptly. i felt like the pain ripped out of my chest, like it was no longer there. i stared at it and i felt relief.

it is still not there. my shoulder are still shaking from the thought of me dropping a pigment, but that's my body reacting to an echo of my previous pain, but the thought of not deserving to live feels so foreign.

sadly, the thought of ending my life doesn't. 

i made myself the best bath with the most shiny bomb i've ever had, and i walked out of there reborn, my skin sparkling with glitter. i was free, i thought. and this is where it hit me, this is where the reference to Brooks hit me.

i am free now, but i have no idea, what to do. 

i can ignore this feeling forever, slipping into the anxiety and depression, but i also can't ignore this forever because i am too healthy for this. so what i feel, when i stop to process it because i really don't want to, is EMPTINESS. as i said, the pigment is back in the can, nothing is threatening me and dictating me what to do. it makes me feel so small. i feel so lost, like all of me is lost. which is weird because it's not, i was a human all this time, i had interests, feelings, pleasures! my chemical romance is back. i am heading to a concert this week and another concert this month, and i don't know what to feel about it. my favourite songs feel like noise. i can distract myself from that for long enough, but not forever. at this point, it feels like i have never lived, like i am not even existing as a person. and if i don't, does it care if i even continue?

routine helps me to continue. i go to work, chat, code. i am still not fired you might have guessed. but if i were, i might just straight up walk out the window or get submerged into a panic attack. if my friend didn't drag me out to eat, idk if i would have eaten anything today until i felt like passing out. i don't feel like doing any of my hobbies. they feel like someone else hobbies. where did my life go?

i booked a psychiatris appointment. the andy part of me, i guess, did it for me. when i think about it, i feel this short shining sensation of hope that it won't just be an advice on "doing stuff that scares me for 5 years every day". i hope that it might be the meds that help my damage brain to think happy thoughts. i hope to become a caring parent to myself, to hear that pleasant voice that it's okay, and that it's okay to be okay, and it's okay to not be okay about being okay. i hope i won't have to hide behind my anxiety anymore - because, despite the pain being gone, anxiety clearly Isn't.

the concert is coming up, and it's in a complete different place. it's my first stadium metal concert by the band i adore. i might actually dress for the ocasion if i find the power to. i hope it welcomes me well. it is so possible and yet so impossible in my current state. did i tell you how small i feel? i think i did. im shoving pumpkin soup into my mouth as we speak. come on, traumatised child. death of hunger is not a quick one.

i wanted to start living, i wasn't ready for the idea that i have never truly lived. 

my soul is so cold, but i want to live again. come on brain chemistry. you can do this. this appointment might go well. uh, i hope it does, at least. i hope. 

funnily enough, yesterday, when i posted this picture all over my social media, in between crying on the floor and running around the flat holding one or two knives, putting them down and taking them again, i didn't even realise, how spot on that was. now it all makes sence. my situation is, in some way, awfuly similar.

there is nothing threatening my freedom right now. my partner might have been exposed to some very problematic views, but he is not evil to the core. he does not lack common sence and empathy, and i can't really doubt that. he is also showing no signs of neglecting me or planning to do do. surely, some of my friends can't figure out enough time for me, but they don't hate me and don't want to end our friendship either. i am not getting fired anytime soon, not if i follow the simplest instructions. even my parents aren't home, and my dead friend is already dead, and i have processed this. i repeat, there is nothing in my life right now that can threaten me, decide for me what to do, trigger my anxiety, ptsd and depression. 

in a sence, there never was. 

but i didn't know that. all this time i had all this depression and anxiety, which were coping mechanisms on itself, shielding me from the truth, from the painful cries of me as a child which haven't stopped for 20+ years and which were entirely to painful to process back then. but it's different now. i saw this child, i talked to him, i think we have more or less walked through our anger, grief, painful feelings in non-letal doses. it was hard, but it made sence. anxiety and depression were hard, but they made sence. what was underneth was hell, and it barely made any sence, and it was unleashed, and it was over, and now nothing makes sence. 

i found the source of my pain that day, and i let it manifest through panic attack after a conversation with my partner, through a depressive episode after my meeting got cancelled, and i thought i might do some crafting despite all this. but then i dropped the pigment and all hell broke loose. i felt like an infant again, abandoned by the whole world for making a horrific mistake. the only sensible thing to do at that moment was suicide. just like it always was, deep at the back of my head. i knew my existing was wrong, and i knew why, i just could never face it. i ran around with knives, browsing suicide chats, flooded with this feeling of being unworthy at life that i faced so clearly now. i knew deep down i can't die, i can't even hurt myself, but i did all those posts, ran around with knives, browsed suicide hotlines because it made sence. because that feeling was always there, it was me, and i dropped the pigment and it could NOT get back into the can no matter how hard i tried and it was a good enough reason to end it all and

and then my friend wrote "maybe use a brush?".

i used the brush to get the pigment back in the can again, and it was over like that. 

suicide stopped making sence, because my mistake was fixed. the crying child stopped abruptly. i felt like the pain ripped out of my chest, like it was no longer there. i stared at it and i felt relief.

it is still not there. my shoulder are still shaking from the thought of me dropping a pigment, but that's my body reacting to an echo of my previous pain, but the thought of not deserving to live feels so foreign.

sadly, the thought of ending my life doesn't. 

i made myself the best bath with the most shiny bomb i've ever had, and i walked out of there reborn, my skin sparkling with glitter. i was free, i thought. and this is where it hit me, this is where the reference to Brooks hit me.

i am free now, but i have no idea, what to do. 

i can ignore this feeling forever, slipping into the anxiety and depression, but i also can't ignore this forever because i am too healthy for this. so what i feel, when i stop to process it because i really don't want to, is EMPTINESS. as i said, the pigment is back in the can, nothing is threatening me and dictating me what to do. it makes me feel so small. i feel so lost, like all of me is lost. which is weird because it's not, i was a human all this time, i had interests, feelings, pleasures! my chemical romance is back. i am heading to a concert this week and another concert this month, and i don't know what to feel about it. my favourite songs feel like noise. i can distract myself from that for long enough, but not forever. at this point, it feels like i have never lived, like i am not even existing as a person. and if i don't, does it care if i even continue?

routine helps me to continue. i go to work, chat, code. i am still not fired you might have guessed. but if i were, i might just straight up walk out the window or get submerged into a panic attack. if my friend didn't drag me out to eat, idk if i would have eaten anything today until i felt like passing out. i don't feel like doing any of my hobbies. they feel like someone else hobbies. where did my life go?

i booked a psychiatris appointment. the andy part of me, i guess, did it for me. when i think about it, i feel this short shining sensation of hope that it won't just be an advice on "doing stuff that scares me for 5 years every day". i hope that it might be the meds that help my damage brain to think happy thoughts. i hope to become a caring parent to myself, to hear that pleasant voice that it's okay, and that it's okay to be okay, and it's okay to not be okay about being okay. i hope i won't have to hide behind my anxiety anymore - because, despite the pain being gone, anxiety clearly Isn't.

the concert is coming up, and it's in a complete different place. it's my first stadium metal concert by the band i adore. i might actually dress for the ocasion if i find the power to. i hope it welcomes me well. it is so possible and yet so impossible in my current state. did i tell you how small i feel? i think i did. im shoving pumpkin soup into my mouth as we speak. come on, traumatised child. death of hunger is not a quick one.

i wanted to start living, i wasn't ready for the idea that i have never truly lived. 

my soul is so cold, but i want to live again. come on brain chemistry. you can do this. this appointment might go well. uh, i hope it does, at least. i hope.