I Had A Cat. Through Everything I Had A Cat. I Don’t Have The Cat Anymore, And Everything Sucks.

the stress hallucinations are back along with the most violent escapism known to man and me and my dad got into it the other day. you never really get past age 14 huh?

4.23.22 - Springtime Winter (excerpt)

I tell him how my dad is clearly trying to kill me, by leaving all of the windows open. I feel a passive pang of ideation. I don't tell him how I wish that it actually would.

Maybe in another life I can be gentle. Maybe there my soul is kind.

mmmm bacteria lab specimens, yummy :D

i'm literally so grateful to the gods. i prayed and prayed and prayed, i tried my hardest even though it hurt, but i have a friend!! i finally did it! she gets me, she has this curse too. we love the same games and the same music. she's so wonderful and beautiful and i love her with all of my heart.

new fp makes my bpd brain go brrrrrr

(1.30.23) - head hanging out the second story window, i let the strawberry smoke fill my lungs. i glance at my watch. 120. it hasn’t lowered all day. i tell myself that it’s just a bad day, that i’ll quit again tomorrow.

the pennsylvanian winter chill hits my face when the breeze blows. there’s a bird calling that i recognize but can’t quite place right now. texts from my only two friends lay unanswered because i don’t know how to tell them what i’m feeling.

i silently wonder if the devil ever feels cursed. if he too sometimes didn’t have the strength in him, because being rotten at the core is truly exhausting.

an ache of pain disturbs the thought. the all consuming anxiety follows. this semester feels as if it will kill me. learning to walk again while desperately trying to memorize an entire taxonomic language is just too much.

i try to glamorize it, to revel in the tasks the women in my books love. to tell myself that this is the life of a girl in the scribe quadrant, that dragons are real and true love exists.

my cat jumps up, she sticks her head out too and sniffs the breeze. she is the only solace my soul finds these days, her and the fluffy stories i fill my head with when i try to outrun these thoughts. the ones where i have a friend group who loves me like family and a man who sees the stars in my eyes. the stories where i am not seen as a monster, but as gentle and kind.

i want to die, to be quite honest. i am in the wrong reality. there is no found family waiting for me, nor a man to write me letters assuring me that i am nothing but angelic golden light. there is just fatherly pain and the weight of the world on my shoulders.

“‘She loves me like a dog’ but not in the soft, blindly loyal puppy way. She loves like a stray, mangy and flea ridden, hiding in the back of an alleyway or under the porch of the abandoned house next door.

She loves violently and ferally and wildly protective because she knows how it feels to be alone during the winter and she can’t go back to that, she can’t.

She loves with teeth and claws because those are the only body parts that have ever saved her, and she mistakes every hug for a chokehold.

She loves in a way that looks an awful lot like violence and feels an awful lot like desperation.”

-some random guy on my tiktok fyp at 3pm on a sunday

by the grace of the Gods, may I get through this moment.

this was written during a suicidal episode, so please bear with the fragmented thoughts and overall vagueness of the big feelings I was feeling.

new year, new font. i was never too attached to the courier, but i think playfair is truly me.