i am fucking weird

i didnt proofread this lol

sometimes i feel like i’m so insecure i’ve opened a gateway for my bones to jump out and leave. maybe i’ve always felt that way. it’s accompanied with the feeling that nobody takes me seriously. people surely did when i was strapped down to a stretcher in an ambulance when i was 13, an event that took my family years to recover from. however i’ve become to feel guilty looking back. the past has left memories so strong they’re not going to leave, so it’s becoming increasingly difficult finding the point to keep entertaining them. so this isn’t about those days, those events that are permentant proof that i was a kid who grew so fast i was left dizzy. i find who i am now a much more important thing to focus on.

when your brain goes tired it can lose digilence, and when its guard is let down it’ll slip into scary depths. why is it so easy yet taxing to hate yourself, i think it would be better not to think about it. but thinking too much about not thinking about it will make you think more, which i guess sounds stupid but is painfully true. i guess that it doesn’t help when what other people think of you means more than your own perception. i internalize so much of what other people tell me there’s no room in my mind for my own thoughts and words. it hurts and its exhausting and choosing to let that go, let all of it go, takes practice and time. i try to be gentle with myself and ignore the instrusive thought that there’s nothing about me that’s worth loving. i suppose a lot of people feel that way. i’m far from alone on this, i wonder if we all find comfort in it but to a certain extent it’s hard to control what we think.

i wish i could find justification in society, and i suppose it is its fault in a way. there’s no future for me here that doesn’t put me in competition with others, i was born in a place that reinforces alienation and the constant threat of my way of life falling apart. it’s difficult to imagine a happy life under these circumstances and nihilism is hard to grapple with. why do i feel like life is useless for reasons beyond my control? the answer to a lot of these prediciments is learning how to comfort myself. this is difficult to do when you don’t love yourself, when you trust yourself. how can you take someone you don’t like seriously? even when comforting someone it’s difficult to be sure that i’m saying the right thing.

social slip ups tend to add to the brutalness. one wrong thing suddenly proves and justifies every self hating thought i had. why can’t i say correct things? what if i make it so people don’t think they can talk to me? this is obviously proof that overthinking plagues me. in reality this whole essay is a product of me overthinking.