I seem to have hit some kind of depression pit due to events in my life beyond my control, and the people involved. "Family" just feels like it has always been one long melodramatic theatrical act of betrayal all of a sudden. All of it. And all I wanted was to live alone, far away from home. I'm not happy with them, and feel like I'm going nowhere... but I'm not in the difficult financial situations I see posted in other journals from time to time. So I should count myself lucky, and I usually manage to, but sometimes you just fall into these darker moods.
The numbness overwhelmed me as things developed, and then I'm just completely unprepared for the emotionally devastating impact of the implications behind, on a whim, checking a certain account and reading a journal of what seems to be a farewell. The imagination always tends to run wild and expect the worst, doesn't it just? It was 7 months ago, though, and I'm not in the habit of regularly checking notifications on any app or website, so I'm not sure if I already saw it or not... I feel like it is a definite maybe I did, due to a very familiar thought/sensation of a desperate, panicked "no no nonono" in the depths of my own mind, despite only ever seeing their comments, or chatting in passing on various submissions, and occasionally perusing a journal or two. It was a comment notification on one of my submissions that I checked the other day, by someone else entirely, but something made me click on the username, on a whim. So maybe I did already know, deep down, simply repressing it and it's implications, and hoping... just maybe there was something else this time.
Every time things are going well, and I've managed to build my psyche and confidence and everything back up, it feels like something always happens that sends me spiralling into a little cycle of mental breakdowns. Triggering depression, self doubt, anxiety attacks, struggling not to cry in the shower over the littlest insignificant things like combing knots out of my hair, or the biggest profoundly fundamental issues of life's futile endeavours, missed opportunities, life regrets... and so on and so forth. Leading to avoiding showers, even more tangled hair and skipping meals. I need a haircut. But I'm not going to get one, due to the heart pounding social anxiety of walking into a store I've never been in, to speak with someone I've never seen before. It's weird.
It turns out I also fucking hate cooking, too. I fucking hate juggling half a dozen different ingredients, and lose my cool at anything beyond two. I would like to enjoy cooking, and experiment, go wild... there's so many different cuts of meat, and I don't rrally care about the prices, convinced there's no actual cost of living crises, only a wage growth crisis. Either you buy the thing and have it, or you don't. I'm very binary in that regard. I don't umm and err about how much a thing costs, only whether or not I actually want or need it, or if I'll actually end up using it. So, for example, I swear I will get around to building and painting all my Warhammer models, one day, and I will enjoy the process... but sometimes you catch a flu from work when you're only three models into a Nurgle army box, and literally cannot scrape and trim mould lines with a scalpel while coughing at random. That's how accidents happen. No juggling glue either, and forget about painting all those fine details. Heck, I spilled half a pot of shade paint the other day, no coughing or anything, 1000% sober, and it slipped from my fingers. I only needed it to dab a tiny amount in some eye lenses, boop. It went everywhere, and I caught it with o e hand to keep it off the carpet, completely forgetting that I have a plastic mat under my chair anyway.
Great, I didn't mean to ramble. But I'm surrounded by people, family, that make me feel so incredibly alone. I'm always reminded of a quote by Robin Williams warning about avoiding precisely that, though I never remember the exact wording.
I just needed to rant, vent and ramble a little today. Life is... complicated. There are so many things I want to do, but I just shut down with other people around, family, and they're always inviting other people over. And they never. Stop. Talking. They speak like how I type lengthy journals and comments, but really loudly. I basically never speak. Unless I'm alone. I might actually speak similarly when I am. But I hate it. I don't want to speak constantly about nothing to nobody. I want to work on my projects, quietly and calmly complete chores that I absolutely will not be doing when they visit because I'm not a dancing monkey. Fuck the dishes, I'll do them later. If I don't want to do it by hand, which I don't mind doing, I do have a dishwasher. But I fucking hate having people telling me what to do, unsolicited, while micromanaging over my shoukder and breathing diwn my neck while strangling me with apron strings. AAAAARRRRGH!
We all have our own little circles of Hell, don't we?
At least, having a sudden unwanted house guest for awhile into the unforeseen future, I have done some work on my models instead of rotting my brain on AI art and story generators, tapping the "continue" or "go" button like Kylo Ren in the second sequel film I'm too rattled to even recall right now. "More. More! MORE!!!"
Don't you just hate it when you're trying to work on some Warhammer models, and just keep getting sexy thoughts? Like using some modelling putty to sculpt some naughty bits onto a daemon prince, or that centaur, or dragon. A rearing ghost horse... some wolves... this took a hard turn away from describing my current bout of despair, didn't it? But how can I experiment with such creations when family always arrives uninvited, without warning? And now one of them.is staying for an indeterminate amount of time. So I sulkily sit typing prompts on my phone, eating up the scant few hours I have between work and sleep, generating images or text, that reactively changes flavour depending on my mood. Sometimes, it will be cute, fun and silly... and sometimes things get dark... I haven't done any for a few days, nor did I do it every day. But now it's incessant questions about what I'm typing, what I'm watching, what I'm building, what I'm painting, and I know they don't care. I know they just can't stand the silence. They like to talk. But all I really do is smile and nod, having to pause everything I'm doing for them to get the need for the illusion of conversation out of their system, because they have something to say and aren't actually interested in hearing my responses.
Maybe this was all too much information, but the social isolating is killing me, and I have nobody to talk to about anything. I know the misery I'm in right now will pass, but I'm stuck with family that never understood that some things I'm meant to do alone, and they won't take a hint. Not even if I spell it out for them. They always mean well, but that's precisely the problem. They do things when I don't ask them to, snd do things I explicitly, very specifically, have taken the time to ask them NOT to do. I just wanted to leave and go live my own life, letting them do theirs, wanting them to be happy, but time after time I keep getting dragged back down, and witness nothing but pointless arguments, incessant nagging, and feel like a miserable failure.
What the hell can I do? I just have to weather it all. Silently.
This was too much. I've been doing that alot lately, on various sites, but deleting it all without posting the comment. But this one... fuck it. I needed to vent a little. If anyone reads it, sorry for wasting your time. I think this is just here for me, for posterity's sake, but I rarely, if never, look back at them.
I'm deeply fucking depressed lately. Why am I still typing?! Fuck!
