Best to be the Changing Water

I feel like such a wreck. I still don’t know what I did that was worth throwing our whole friendship away.

I showered last night, for the first time in… nine days? Wasn’t until I pumped the soap into my scrubbie that it clicked: my soap is coconut, like my sunscreen, and it makes me think of beaches and you.

I lay awake at night, body exhausted and ready for sleep, eyes tired, brain wired and spinning a mile a minute with thoughts of you. Wishing, wondering, and digging at the wound in my heart like I can somehow carve those four months out of it and start again.


Also I think my cat is dying. He’s technically a senior cat now, nearly twelve (if his paperwork was accurate) and has been hyperthyroid for years now. I started treating him with cbd when I couldn’t afford the compound lotion I had to dose in his ears (which he hated, loathed, could taste, and despised) when I could hardly remember to do it twice a day let alone find him and struggle with him to get it done. He improved, drastically, seemed in less pain from his hips, lost a lot of the swelling and water weight.

This year he went from probably 18-20lbs of cat… to maybe 11-12lbs. I think he just.. stopped eating the dry food. He’s peeing a TON, he looks old man skinny, when I give him his treats laced with cbd he acts like he’s starving. I’ve been supplementing with wet food, picked up broth, picked up wet treats, anything to get calories in him. He also suddenly lost a ton of fur down his back when I brushed him one day, and his back was scaly/scabby… we’ve gone back to full grain free food, he got a bath with oatmeal and aloe shampoo, and he improved, but I’m still scared I’m gonna wake up and find him gone one day and I don’t know if I can handle that right now.

He’s been so much more affectionate. He laid down with his paws and chest on my outstretched hand yesterday and purred himself to sleep— terrifying me in the process when his head did the sleepy kitten trick and just BONK right into my hand. Of course, then he came up in my lap and decided to pee on me when he woke up, so it’s a mixed bag.

I’m so extra depresso it’s not even funny right now, and we’re just heading into SAD season to boot. I wish I could disappear, become someone else, somewhere else, or even just stop existing for a while. Existence requires too much upkeep. There’s all these things to do, this body to look after, these feelings like waves crashing over my head that won’t let me come up for more than a gasp at a time. Work to make money to keep a roof over me and mine, keep food in our bellies, keep gas in our cars, just live in this capitalist world. No energy for hobbies or even chores. I just want to turn my body over to someone else to run for a while, take a vacation via astral projection.


Yeet my consciousness into space, free me from the bondage of being human.


Don’t worry, I’m not dying anytime soon

i dunno what I wanted to write, I'm just in a Mood To Write

wanted to type, to tell some kind of story

Guess I'll update my journal lol


I feel like I've lost some important things in the process of Growing Up that I miss. And the depression and anxiety and all of it has just eaten away at me until I'm a shell of what I used to be, more often than not.

I can't stand my job because I border on unnecessary in a strange way; there's so much time where I do nothing, or very little, and I know for the people I work for I do a lot, and they value the time and energy I put in, but there is so. much. down. time.
But I love my job because I'm a caregiver by nature, and I am helping people, and it's mostly easy on my body; there's a lot of down time and easy work. I enjoy the people I get to know (mostly).
i
Contradictions. Mentally I want something challenging, but I don't know what that means anymore with how addled my brains feel like they've gotten. Physically I want something challenging, but my chronic health problems there create this Venn diagram of things I feel like I could do in the tiniest center sliver of near statistical insignificance-- okay, maybe not that bad but it was fun to write.

And I have a hard time working on getting better physically, because of where I am mentally, and it turns into the sneaky spiral of exhausted give-no-fucks.

Which is basically where I spend my time, either giving zero fucks or giving too many fucks, with no comfortable middle ground. What middle ground there is, is spent on things I wish I could either give less fucks about or have the energy to do something about the fucks I do give about them. UGH.


I feel like an absolute wreck any time I stop to think about it. The inside of my head is a mess as bad as the one I live in (or worse) and I hate it.

I have zero defined characters I can "drop into" like I used to. I have no motivation. I have no energy. I have no inspiration. I love to write, to doodle, to ride a bike, to run, to play, to dance, to read books... But even those things still feel outside of my grasp. Honestly this journaling has been the most writing I've done (except occasional RP on imvu) in far too long. Thinking about it makes me want to cry.

I don't feel unhappy, though. I feel happy, most of the time, with what I do have. With the things that I do do. I listen to music, I watch some TV or video games, I cuddle with Babe. These things are good.

And honestly, I don't hate cleaning. Like, when I'm in a mood to do it, I even usually enjoy it. I feel satisfied when I make a difference at the end. Some of it is tedious (especially organizing!) but a job well done is still well done and satisfying. It's all about the starting, usually. Hell, even when I don't enjoy it I'm honestly pretty ambivalent about it. So why is it so damn hard to start?


I told Waifu once that I follow the path of least resistance. I need direction, engagement, external force exerted in order to make things happen. Once they become routine, it's easier: because I trained my cat to annoy me at bedtime until I get my meds and then feed her, she gets fed and I get my meds at approximately the same time every evening. But until then, until I have a consistent force to set a routine, I live by the path of least resistance. And it's... probably not good, actually.

I just don't know what to do about it right now.

i miss roleplaying Akito

when people know what to expect in the way of abuse it's easier to let it out safely

I have that dark streak, full of rage and misguided love


We're over. I'm gonna try to put more effort into being an actual friend, but I'm through being a partner to this broken mess we've made. I love her to the end of the world, and I broke my own heart this time. Maybe it's the last time.


I fucked up my wrist punching a wall tonight, too.

I'm such a mess.

Today is my anniversary~ Waifu and I have officially been married for five years today. Through all the hardships, through bouts of anger and depression and heartbreak and bonding, we've somehow managed to get by this long. Barely.

I love her, but

and there it is, the million dollar "but" that always begins the breakdown, and it scares me

her depression is _so bad_, so often, and I can't help but feel like trying to save her will only lead to me drowning too. I'm scared to admit it, but when she was gone I was doing better. It's hard to tell if it's winter taking its toll, but I definitely see myself struggling to tread water where I wasn't before, because she's always drowning and I'm so determined to try and help that it takes its toll on me and my health.

I don't know how to do this.

It doesn't help that I'm probably the only person whose meds work reliably (if I can remember to take my morning ones, especially) enough to get much done, so I feel like I'm constantly the one who ends up having to deal with things that need done. I get resentful, even though I know I shouldn't. And so much of the mess is mine after all; all the clutter and junk I keep in such a tight space, made tighter by the number of people, and the mounting tensions between everyone.

She wants me to seek her out, initiate contact more often, but I'm so tired from everything already that mostly I just want to go crawl into bed, or lay my head on Babe's chest and just let all the stress drain away into his grounding presence.

Maybe, when she's not sick with this nasty cold nobody wants anymore, I can do the same and just lay my head on her chest and relax for a while. I dunno if it will work the same; I remember a time when she was that kind of comfort, before our interactions became anxiety and resentment and fights and heartbreak more often than comfort and smiles. I want to make this work, if I can. If I can keep my head above water long enough.

The meds seem to be working, finally. I'm still tired, but I'm doing better with personal care, and I'm much better about not being a crazy and emotionally unpredictable wreck.

It's weird having regular emotions. I get sad, disappointed, upset, angry... but not wildly and irrationally so.

Exhaustion still happens; the depression and anxiety are only a part of the chronic illness. And when I'm exhausted, the emotions still run stronger. But it's so much better than it was.


Today, I am exhausted. Today I was tired, sleepy, all day. I slept from around midnight until almost one this afternoon, and I'm still tired. Still sleepy. It's grey and dreary out, which is likely a part of it; the oncoming cold weather is surely another part.

Today I went home after work only to gather a few necessities before going to the boyfriend's for the night.

Currently, I feel disappointed, abandoned, left behind, alone. Old insecurities resurfacing. But it's my own fault, for not communicating. "I want to come along," I didn't say. I put my shoes back on, my sweater and jacket, my hat. But I never said "I'm coming, too." "Don't leave without me." "Wait for me." So now I'm here, alone, feeling left behind. Ugh.