quitting

I went on spring break and performed with the [music] club, and it was pretty good. It had its ups and downs. I felt like I had purpose again though. That felt good. I didn't end up hooking up with anyone, which is probably good because that lets me have a little self respect.

I've decided to quit all of my classes. Well, almost all. I've completed all of my requirements to graduate, so they don't care what my course load is, but I have to stay in at least one class to remain a student here. I'm staying in the one that I have the most friends in.

I hate quitting. I used to never quit. I used to man up and muscle through, but halfway through high school, I discovered that I could just say no. I wish I never realized that, I wish I was always able to just rise to the occasion. What is it to be a man? How do I resolve the idea that I'm different from women but not unequal? That's a hard thought to settle, my gut wants to be either better or worse.

I didn't believe my doctor a year ago when they diagnosed me with anxiety. I believed my state of mind to be normal for someone that gives a fuck about the world. I thought that people who didn't have this voice in their head second guessing every move they made were crazy, that they were stupid and narcissistic. Now I'm realizing that I've just had excellent coping mechanisms all of my life. I had so much structure that the anxiety served as fuel for my achievement. Diamonds are formed under pressure, but now there's no structure, and my precious anxiety fuel is spread across my steel beams and is, to my surprise, completely melting me. Fuck.

I just gotta graduate. I need to get out of this town, I need to get a job, I need to start making money and become self-sufficient and stop taking daddy's money. I need to feel like I'm earning being alive.

In other news, I'm taking care of two suicidal girls. One from my hometown that never went to college and one that dropped out of [the university] and attempted suicide last semester. Taking care of is kind of a strong word actually, they're also helping me a little. I like the dropout way more.

The one from my hometown (let's call her Wagner) has the career aspirations of becoming a esthetician, is working her way through community college classes, is racist and homophobic, sends me nudes, and then becomes cold when I try to reciprocate her flirtations. I don't really like her, but I'm lonely and she makes me feel better about myself. She's never attempted, never been institutionalized, and sleeps around with exclusively latino men. Every time I try to engage her in conversation, she brings nothing to the table. She once asked me how mirrors worked. She thought that I was gay because of the way that I did my hair in high school and the way I cross my legs. I think she's a moron, but she's giving me attention.

The dropout (aka Foster) is a self-described femcel and lesbian, has attempted suicide by lithium overdose, has extremely intense PMS, loves rock music and books, believes in anti-natalism, hates bisexual women, and is trying to pursue cybersecurity. She works as a delivery driver now, but finds her job and her living situation isolating. She's living at home with her parents now, and although she says that she loves them, she admits that its difficult living at home without privacy. I think she's awesome. She's actually the reason that I got into Alice in Chains. We started a book club between the two of us; the first book we're reading is The Three Body Problem, which is ironic considering we're both slightly prejudiced against the Chinese (the nationality, not the ethnicity). Today she told me that she might check herself back into the psych ward soon. I didn't really know how to respond to that, so I just talked to her for a few hours to try and give her some social interaction and make her feel less lonely and more normal. Her depression is existential angst, which is a very difficult thing to reason against. I wish I could give her a hug, but she lives so far away now. I want a hug too.

It's hard living with men. My roommates are so emotionally unavailable, and I don't think they can really relate to how I'm feeling. Talking to these girls helps because they know what emotional pain and self-hatred is. I go to the gym and watch TV and play chess with my roommates, which is nice, but sometimes it's hard to feel like I'm really being seen. I have two other friends that I see regularly outside of my roommates. One is gay, knows what depression is, is super intelligent, and has been on a massive weight loss journey. I'm really proud of him, he can run as fast me now. The other kinda pisses me off because he enjoys acting like a retard. It was funny at first, but when I'm debugging code and I ask him what he thinks, his response of, "mmmhuhuuummm i dunno drrr," makes me want to smack him in his fucking face.

I went out to play Magic the Gathering tonight. One of the guys in the [music] club told me he played, so I drove him and a friend to the local game store. It was cool being around people, but every time I play Magic now, it reminds me why I stopped. The people associated with the game are kind of losers; I don't want to be those people. I'm realizing that I enjoyed hanging out with my friends in high school more than I enjoyed playing the game itself, which is a shame and a bit stressful considering I own more than a thousand dollars worth of cards. I did enjoy going out though, even if I did end up dropping $30 on cards and junk food. It might be better than $30 on three drinks and a cover charge at a bar though.

Also, the friend from high school that I talked about that told me to, "stay gold, Ponyboy," just made things weirder. After that comment, we had an exchange where he told me that he couldn't be there for me in a very rude way. I ended up blocking his number, but a week ago I got a message on discord from him. He said that he wanted to talk, so I scheduled time with him a few days later. When our appointment rolled around, he ditched me and then send: "My intentions of talking were not good. We are not going to understand everything about each other. I will not face you." I'm trying not to take this personally. I know that he's probably going through something right now. The last time I talked to him, he seemed paranoid and strung out. But this is insane. I'm tempted to call his dad and ask what the fuck is going on. I wouldn't mind doing that actually, I think his dad is pretty cool. But jesus fucking christ, this is fucking upsetting. Why the fuck do people never want to talk things out? Is it because they don't have anything to talk about and only operate on feelings and whims? Am I a truly toxic person? Do I hang out with toxic people?

As a last note, I think my ex or one of her friends might be stalking me. I got a follow request on Instagram from a brand new account called "Jessica Jones". I knew that she was a marvel fangirl, but this pretty heavy handed. I kind of want to message the account and just say, "Subtle." I don't care if she's stalking me, I'm not threatened by her, but I still think its weird. Whatever. I think the secret to being less stressed is caring less and thinking about other things.