whatever

My body is falling apart, I haven't worked out in a week and I feel guilty and shitty, but I don't have the energy because I'm eating nothing and scrolling until 4am. Fuck the internet and fuck me for not being stronger. I cheated on my last homework assignment because i started it an hour before it was due because I'm retarded. My back is killing me because I'm so stressed. I don't have a job yet, but every time I go to look for them I seize up in anxiety for some reason and I close the tab. Fuck me.

I think COVID fucked me up more than I realized. I had a friend over the other day, and when I told him that glee is the first club I've been in during college, he jokingly asked what I did with my time the last four years. I hate using the word trauma because people use it for every little inconvenience in their lives now, but it really was traumatic. I can barely remember the last four years, but when I look back, I can remember episodes of just coming home after class and hyperventilating and crying and screaming from loneliness and falling asleep on the floor.

I really haven't had anyone to talk to during my college experience. Every time I met someone, I would assume they just hated me and I wouldn't follow up with them. If they invited me out, I'd assume they were joking or that there was some kind of catch. When girls flirted with me, I felt like I was being made fun of. I know that I'm moderately attractive, my body is nice, and I'm funny, but it's so hard to feel like a real person sometimes. I feel like I've wasted my college years, and I want to blame the school for the COVID year and the fucking hellish living nightmare that I experienced, but I also have to shoulder some of the blame. I should've snapped out of it. I should've realized that people might actually like me. I should've talked to people more.

Fuck, I needed to vent a little. I was *this* close to killing myself the other day. Wrote a whole 'nother note and began archiving files and everything. I don't know what stopped me, I really need to do better.

I read somewhere that suicide tends to happen on the upswing of depression. As you begin feeling better, your energy returns. You gain control of your prefrontal cortex again, and you gain the ability to make and execute plans. Then, if you're tempted at all or put in a vulnerable place, your mood falls back into suicide mode, but there's no lethargy because your body hasn't caught up yet. The two systems are out of sync, and your suicidal psyche is able to convince your energized body to kill itself. I don't know if that's true, but it makes a lot of sense. I tried to kill myself less than 24 hours after I was given hope. Hope is such a dangerous thing. It is such a fine line to walk; trying to strive for a happier future without bringing yourself to expect it. You have to just kind of wander into happiness. God, that's fucked up.

Also, I hate that I saw this, but Elizabeth's roommate posted on the music club's account and she's in the photo. I did not need to see that. I feel a little concerned for her because of her haircut. It's neat looking but very concerning; she went from a wolf cut to straight up peach fuzz. This then prompted me to restalk her Spotify, which further indicated that she's not doing too hot. It's not my place to give a shit because she didn't give a shit about me, but... it hurts to see her hurt. I hate that. Fuck her and her insecurities. Fuck me and my cowardice. ahahahhhhhhh blah blah self pity blah blah blah whatever. Maybe I'm just projecting. She's probably rocking the skinhead look in order to be more aerodynamic or something.

okay. anyways. Good things i have going on right now?

Talking to the racist girl more. She's on another level of insecure, its kind of insane. She's on and off with her ex right now, who she thinks is mean and can't explain why she's seeing again.

I'm playing more piano now too. There's a free piano in the student health building that I can play at. I'm getting pretty good at Everlong, which has a deceptively difficult strumming pattern.

I stopped going to my therapist because i feel like she isn't helping, and also because she always schedules me at nine or ten in the morning and I simply can't will myself out of bed before noon. Maybe that's not a good thing, but it's what I did.

I'm going with the glee club to a horse racing (read: day-drinking) event soon and then beach week for graduation, so that's cool I guess.

I'm still struggling to quit porn again, but I made advances on locking down my devices even more. There's always a way around it, but I've made it difficult to point where i would need to reinstall my entire computer to get back to it.

I'm going with my roommate to volunteer on a farm in Ireland and chop wood for two weeks this summer. I'm very excited to work out in nature with my hands and feel like a man. We might go to Iceland too.

I think that's it for now, my hands and back hurt a lot from playing piano for three hours earlier. I don't think my body is used to the posture necessary.