saffi sad hours

yeah, it's definitely shark week

i'm actually glad about my diminishing appetite cause it'll make it easier for me to not eat while i'm recovering from surgery

plus losing some weight will help accentuate my collarbone that i desperately want people to touch

i'm not saying i'll go there

i'm not saying i'll stay there

i'm not saying they'll never find me

i'm just thinking about it

i'm thinking about that grass field off highway 37 again

gabapentin is so good at making my worries and pains go away, and i was doing such a good job not being dependent on it. but this is my second time this week, and I think my fourth this month. but between this and weed i should probably admit that I'm a functioning drug addict.

it keeps happening lately where I'm trying to manage a crisis and I freeze because I don't know what to do

I always know what to do, that's like my whole point. this is really distressing

ahhhhhhh i fucked up so hard at work and I'm scared i'll get in trouble for it

my surgery is in just over a month and i'm so fucking nervous

actually it's spreading and i just hate everything about myself

need a reset

i'll never understand how people find me attractive in that state. clothed? fuck yeah I look good in clothes. but take them off and i just feel... wrong

god i hate the way i look naked

but the man who wrote that email, the one full of love and reflection, he's the one I want to know more about. the one i wish I could have come out to. there were only two months between my revelation and his downfall, and i had once chance to open my heart to him. that's the thing i would change.

i carry a lot of spite surrounding him, and I don't know how to forgive him. but at the same time, this pain, these burdens, they helped me become the person that i am today. i see who I am, how strong i am, what i can accomplish, and i'm proud. i wouldn't change the past, even if it would hurt less

i think about the man who seemed to care so little that he didn't even make a plan for what would happen when his decades of smoking caught up to him. the man that i had to work to try to save from half a world away, who probably wouldn't have done the same for me.

and the man who wrote that email. i don't think about him enough, just the other two. i think about the man who gave up on me and set me back years, decades. there were so many things he could have done to teach me how to survive as an adult that he just didn't.

i just read an email he sent to me over a decade ago. it explained a lot about who he was trying to be, what he wanted to be. in my brain there are three of him: the man who didn't know what to do with me and left me to flounder; the man withering away in hospice living a hell that nobody deserves,

my birthdays have been historically kinda lousy, and yesterday had its challenges, but those last few hours more than made up for it 🫠

I exist to serve, and any attempt to relax or enjoy myself shall be punished

if I have to cancel another vacation cause I'm sick, i

"the future will fix me" says the girl completely detached from the flow of time

not having a good day today

i wish i was as into sex as I like to think i am. but everything is overstimulating and i just feel like i'm being tickled. that or my tummy hurts.

drugs help a lot though and put me in the mindset I need to be in, but i wish I could do this sober. maybe i'm just meant to sit in the chair and watch

no, things would be easier without him

maybe someday in the future it'll be different. i'll get to be the person i want to be for a little bit before I die. that's my hope, anyway

i don't know what my point is. i don't know what I want, what i'm afraid of. what i'm waiting for. so i just do the same thing every day. wake up, eat breakfast, get ready for the day, go to work/run errands/fix something, walk through an emotional landmine, repeat. every day.

maybe it's just winter talking. nah, this whole year was like this. facing unfathomable challenges on multiple fronts. navigating the pain of myself and of others. it was too much. it's still too much, even if it doesn't sting like it used to in the beginning.

but it's not like i haven't been here before. this used to be me all the time. it's similar to that pain that made me saffi. and if i can survive to this point again. maybe I can fight to get what I want again

i used to say that if I truly wanted something, i would do the work to make it happen. i believed it because I made a hell of a lot happen. but now there are so many things to consider. I can't just live for myself anymore, i have to watch for everyone's toes.

but this year has asked a lot of me. too much maybe. i'm tired, i'm always sick now, might be like this forever. it's not that I don't have any fight left in me, but i don't know if i can follow through with my (metaphorical) punches these days. maybe i fear the consequences now

she's a reaction to the pain i felt for all those years, and I'd hoped i'd stop needing her once I got my shit together