I'm struggling. I'm struggling to not fall into the patterns of self destructive tendencies I thought I abandoned a long time ago. I'm struggling to not let my shadow consume me completely. I'm struggling to reach out to my friends. I'm struggling to watch or read anything. I'm struggling to keep my focus or motivation behind doing chores. I'm struggling to find any reason to carry on, the future horrifies me to my core. Although I still feel better than I did yesterday.
I always try to make myself believe that things will keep getting better. Every time I think about this phrase, the words drift in the melody of the beatles song in my mind. "Getting Better" is a very comforting song, pure optimism. Things used to be bad, but now that I have you I feel like the world is a little brighter. This one line, it's a fantasy I'd like to live in. I'm not in a relationship, and in all honesty not eager to just straight into a new one, so there is a level of bitterness that the song and phrase now bring me. When in love, its easy to put everything on the other person. Flooding someone with your love is easy. I deeply desire to blur the boundaries between my soul and someone else's, to merge and create something beautiful. Its so easy to make yourself be defined completely by your attachment to another person. But this is no way to live. You fundamentally are in love with a projection onto the other person. I of course never intend to do it. With time it becomes easier to get over the puppy love phase of a relationship, and see if you are in love with the other person and the stability created between you two. And yet, I still want to cling onto this song, because its more then just this one line.
I had anger issues as a child. I never "beat my woman" but I was an autistic child throwing tantrums to my mother who could only respond with more screaming. I did feel oppressed by the schools I attended. But I rarely tried to stand against it, since it felt like giving up was the best way to wait out being a teenager. Things are certainly better now, I no longer live in a poor little town in a shithole country for starters. I am an adult now, barely in my early twenties, but still one regardless. I can do things out of my own volition, I can work on myself as a person rather then be defined by my base instincts. I moved a lot when younger, and never thought I'd be able to have friends or a relationship, I was utterly alone for most of my life. But now I have friends. It is getting better, even if its taken years. I used to have to keep shedding my own person, existing in a permanent state of fluidity, just letting myself be a reflection of whatever would appeal to the person I felt the need to impress. Even now I sometimes struggle to know if I truly want something or if its just what I assume I should want or do. I never even really got to keep my things. When moving I'd lose most of my things along with every friendship I made. Even now, I struggle to imagine being able to keep my possessions, I have to try to stop myself from giving away my stuff like I used to when I was actively suicidal. But in my last relationship, I told this specific anxiety to the person I was dating. She told me she naturally wouldn't mind if I brought my books and whatever other frivolous stuff if we ever were to move in together. I cried a little when she told me this. I really felt like I was allowed to be myself. And while we are no longer together, I carry on these positive changes. I'm not the same person I used to be, and even if I'm never ever gonna get to grow old with someone I love, I'll still have the positive progress in myself as a person. I was told by a lot of people I need to learn to live with myself. Today I've been thinking about this a lot, as being able to define myself and find happiness within my own existence is what I am currently trying to do. Things are difficult, but I keep getting better at it.
I didn't write most of these with the intention of ever publishing them anywhere. They hold a lot of personal feelings, although any specific information about real people has been redacted. I think the best way to structure this is to divide this into a collection of journal writings, and miscellaneous writings that are less reflective