An Open Letter

I present tomorrow for the first time at my job, and its to two directors, and three managers. I just realized while writing this that my dad is a senior director. I’m like terrified to speak infront of a director, and I text my dad all the time. What the fuck.

She got me a framed photo of us after one of our early surprise dates. I’m so happy.

It’s such a weird thing to feel this want to have more, even though there’s no real reason. I guess I wanna do what my dad did.

I fucked up and fumbled at an informal presentation and the shame consumes me. I just wanna forget about is as hard as I can to be honest.

The first half of today was so horribly bad I don’t even want to notarize it if I’m being honest. The second half was good though. I felt heard, and like there’s a change.

It’s one of those things that I won’t get recognition for. E broke down crying because she had been bottling up her feelings, and it all exploded again. I was already really struggling but immediately my autopilot kicked in and I comforted her for three hours. And now I’m just sitting here unable to cry or scream or anything else. I have to comfort her for her feeling like she’s a shitty partner to me and that she keeps hurting me, and so I again have to push my feelings down to make her feel better, because if I don’t then I’m going to be stuck with this for the next few weeks just like the last few. The guarded comments, lack of connection and the feeling that something is wrong and she won’t let me know. Instead this shit has to fester until it explodes. There is nothing I can do, and even now my hands are tied because she feels horrible about fucking up. So I can’t make her feel like she ever fucks up. I can’t even just deal with my shit by myself but rather I have to now hide it around her.

It’s just like my mom again. I have to fix her emotional state for her, because if I don’t then I’m fucked. Back then it was things like food or getting to school, but now it’s my weekends and being able to not always have my nervous system lit up.

I’m mad and I feel like I don’t have a voice right now, so take it with a grain of salt but to me I feel like people need to fucking take accountability and handle their own emotional states. I feel disgust towards people like my mom who don’t ever handle their own shit and grow up. Yes everyone has their circumstances. Boo hoo if you wallow in it, make yourself miserable I don’t care. But when you affect other people because you refuse to step up and do the shit you need to do to get better, I look down on you. Take some fucking accountability. I know this seems like I’m saying this at E, but I’m not. I just blame my mom, and people like her.

I was so stressed for so long and in pain that I had a baby hypomanic episode on Thursday night. I crashed hard the next day, and then I’m back to wanting so desperately to have a safe place to cry to. I can’t even feel safe alone in my apartment, how fucked up is that. I love my dad, but beating me until I stopped crying really worked, so congrats. I think 8 year old me deserved that for feeling powerless from being beat up by my starter, and then being the one yelled at for trying to get her to stop. I was absolutely in the wrong and I deserved that.

I think about that one post, where it’s always you’re too good for me but never worth changing for. E keeps saying it feels like there’s nothing she can do, and while I get it to some extent my own perspective wants to cry and say how low the bar is or how easy it is. One of the cons of being who I am is thinking a lot of stuff is easier than it may be I guess. I think I’m expecting too much for her to do the things I tell her when she asks me what she can do. Even the small stuff like just gifting me a skin. I don’t want the fucking skin. But I am running out of easier ways for her to get a win and do something nice. Her just clicking gift on a $10 thing is easier than telling me she’s sorry or planning out a date for us. Or not fucking going silent when I’m vulnerable with her. Even though I’ve told her so many times how much it guts me.

I just can’t help but think I deserve this all, because the alternative is that I don’t deserve it and then I’m powerless.

Yeah I crashed hard. I couldn’t remember what happened two days ago at all.

My god, music just sounds so fucking good. I get so overwhelmed, I want to cry. These are so beautifully not happy tears, and not sad. They’re these feelings just bursting to get out of my body any way possible, whether it’s through tears, vommit, dance, or just gurgles coming out of my throat. It’s like I’m a conduit for this just HUMAN feeling, that I can’t describe in any way other than holding back sobs. I’m so fucking happy. It feels like the human experience is blasting through my mind, each arp, synth, even the fucking absence of sound fills me so fucking damn full. I’m a cup not just full, but drowning in a sweet honey nectar with no viscosity at all. I’m both falling and soaring at the same time. I’m not just happy I’m not dead, I’m happy I got the opportunity to be here right now. It’s enough to make it worth it.

House purchased. Rough day though, I’m so stressed with work.

I’m at such a huge point in my life, but it’s also been such a nightmarishly stressful and shit day. Tomorrow will be better.