kissa you

✨ rené | 20 | he/him | ⚧️⚣ | personal chatter of a hopeful romantic | art blog: dv-art


Posts tagged vent:




its really not inconceivable that i have a stress headache from the weight of the world on my shoulders with all the stupid shit thats goin on in my life rn. its non stop attacks on my health. the emotional, spiritual, intellectual. so what if im eating bread and cheese drinking a cup of rosemary and chamomile tea with advocaat watching imdb's top rated he man episodes. at least here alone in the dead of the night in darkness and silence im at peace

you did good you did good you did good dont start with the critical thoughts without aknlowledging first that you did good and you finally read it.

still,, it took me five hours. and now its nine pm. and shes probably asleep. and what she wrote is "what can i do to help?". i know its great right???? its great. except i dont know. i dont know how to reply to that. i dont know what she can do to help me because the fucking therapist cant. shes giving me practical tools to apply to reality right now, technically, kind of. but not tools to accomodate my shit to do schoolwork. not yet. thats like an advanced thing. and thats a problem because thats like the most pressing thing in my life right now. i just. i just fffffffffff

progress. its progress. its progress. its forward. im not stuck. im not frozen in a living hell unchanging. its good. its good but dammit i dont know what to tell her. i have to talk to the therapist first and thats tomorrow, and. whatever. we'll figure it out. itll be fine. ITS FINE SHE DIDNT say anything other that HOW CAN I HELP YOU thats an AMAZING thing. im surrounded by people. who want to help me. god. god. i just need to wait. i just need. to wait. just wait. just wait. just.

tomorrow. we figure it out tomorrow. i just have to eat and sleep now. eat and then sleep.

im just. i just want to read a text without feeling a fucknig wave of excruciating pain. it doesnt work. it doesnt work when you tell me that the pain is in anticipation of something horrible that in the end doesnt happen. its not that. it hurts WHILE im reading a harmless string of words. i get all fucking fucked up leading up to it because its PAINFUL and i HATE that. i HATE IT. i just want everyone to shut the fuck up and stop talking to me!!! tw: suicidal ideation

i just want to stop talking to people and die and stop existing i just want to stop. and i hate that. because thats insane mentally ill bullshit. and tis not gonna happen. its not gonna happen. im just stuck.

i hsve te app open!!! the conversation open!!! progress!! progress!!!! im not looking at iit yetbut i will. just give me a minute to prepare. and relax. its not very llong. the opener is very nice and polite. uhhhjjh.


im halfway thru the process already. i SENT the TEXT i already did that and it was GREAT its PROGRESS CONGRATULATIONS now can you PLEASE pick up the phone. unlock it. whatsapp is already open. just look. just read. just look at it. just read what she replied. shes NOT gonna be angry, or disappointed?, shes not sick of you, youre not a burden or dragging everyone along with your bullshit, its fine, its all fine, its all gonna work out fine you jsut have to READ WHAT SHE WROTE

dull pain is gone now!! success story of the year!!! i believe in hope and the future and gettting better!!!! dont give up!!! fuckkk!!!!!!!!!!

today im pissed off fuck everything and everyone fuck my life im consistently getting enough rest now so my schedule isnt fucked bc im tired its fucked bc i dont want to fucking get up and exist i hate living. the passage of fucking time. doing things. moving my body. i hate it. where the fuck is my motivation and drive. i know its in there somewhere. its just goddamn on vacation today

heres an inspirational tale for all u lovely ppl out there: i thought i could never set boundaries with some ppl after trying and trying and trying again but then i tried and tried and tried some more and when i was out of fuckin breath i got a therapist to tell me to try again, and i did and i followed her sick pro gamer strats, to ufkcing talk it out, and after a fucking lifetime of trying, i set the fuckinvg boundaries. i set. we set. (its like, a collaborative thing) boundaries and its not like all talk its like an actually follow words with actions type of deal bc we're both so utterly sick of bullshit that we just. solved the problems with a lot of fucking words. just like all those preschool shows told you. except they dont tell you that those conversations are long and complicated as fuck. exhausting. so like. thats a fact. if theres anything i would want to broadcast into the world is that setting boundaries late late into an intimate relationship is a fucking ordeal but sometimes its not impossible. im sorry that sounds pessimistic. it is possible. it is sometimes possible in some cases where it doesnt seem like it. my head hurts. good vibes all around.

oh no i took a shower to relax but i ended up being alone with my thoughts for too long and got all fuckignfngin fucked up over vivid images of extreme violence!!!!!! fuck!!!!! you know those fuckngi art pieces abt all the built up anger and resentment manifesting as a fiery dragon or somethign!!! this is it babey this is FUCKING it i have the fucking dragon in my bones and its a painful fuckhigng arrangement god fucking dammit its too much for oneeee one person to wrestle with all day every day day night morning afternoon im so. im not even gonna finish this thought

everything was alright in the end. sure why not. im so fucking tiredddd why is everything like a federal fucking issue?? like i cant have one fucking day when there isnt Something. thats fucking stressful as all fucking hell. fuck this. fuck everything. therapist is super nice and helpful. life is a fucking hell

well. lets look at the bright side. we were gonna talk about my fuckibg trauma tmrrw so now i can tell her with certainty that my anxiety and avoiding what i rationally know to be fundamentally harmless and positive interactions w friends and classmates and professors and strangers is that the same interactions with certain ppl in my shit fuck home are not. that.

well. feelin like pure shit and im crying, again. im p sure this was not the intended purpose of the session. im just 2 emo 2 lift and everything is suffering, at the fucking moment.

its stupid bc the whole time she tries to give me all these good vibes and im just like *stares emotionlessly w tears streaking down face* "ok" like its nothing. just completely bounces off. i hear the words. i understand them. i feel like shit.

hnhjgnhg stop with the potential scenarios. that has not happened. theres a ridiculous amount of stuff that needs to happen first in order to lead into it happening. just stop. stop daydreaming abt stupid potential arguments like a neardenthal getting ready for The Hunt. please turn off the alarms. the muscle tension. fuckign god. im not gettting any fuckign sleep tonight am i ughnhgU HGGNHJG but at leat i could get a COUPLE of hours if i CALM the fuck down. MAYBE?? but what the fuck does it matter to split hairs about one more or less hour when youre getting shit quality sleep anyway and feeling like shit abt the whole rigmarole anyway. fuckkign... there isnt even anything good to snack on to decompress... when i have my own damn place im gonna get snacks in bulk so theres always some for whatever emergency or miscellaneous occasion

ok last post for tonight bc i feel like its kinda important to note this bc its so absurd and strange.

its just like in the fuckin cartoons. everything is so grey and lifeless and flat, so flat. and shallow and meaningless. i just hate everything and everyone for no good reason. but its not strong hate, just passive annoyance. and disinterest. im so bored. SO BORED. everything. is so. BORING. and NONE of it matters. not a SINGLE thing. nothing.

im an artist. when im feeling more normal i live for color, color is my world. but rn i feel like if i look at something too colorful ill have this fuckin violent reaction like AAAH IT BURNS like complete negative emotional overload with a sensory element i guess.

sometimes i ponder over the phrase bored to tears bc ppl use it metaphorically and here i am so profoundly disinterested in my own existence that im overcome by a feeling like grief over the loss of purpose, direction, etc.

my stomach turns and i get a feeling in the back of my throat like when im sick of eating something, except im sick of everything that has ever happened in my modest lifespan, including the amount of repetition in this godforsaken post.

this is like my depression manifesto. this is what its like and by god. i dont care WHAT i have to do, i dont care how long it takes (im already ok with working on it for the rest of my life). im fucking. changing. i am change. i am metamorphosizing (sp?) into a byootiful butterfly. a sexy beast. oh my god.

now im crying again bc i just thought of all the parties im gonna be in. all the friends im gonna make. all the love and passion. all the art that im gonna make. all of it. just all of it. its all i ever wanted. and ill be there for it all

im emotional bc of hormone hijinks but bear with me. fuck. just fuck this. this whole thing. fuck my relationship with sleep. what is sleep? its nothing. im literally doing nothing. thinking nothing. the ultimate escape. ok this is starting to sound upsetting so just in case ill put the rest under a cut

sleeping = not existing for a bit. so this state of wanting to sleep just always and forever? upsettingly similar to sui ideation. and thats so fucked. i dont need to tell you how fucked that is. why. why the want to escape it all. even the good parts. i thought we had reached a point where the good things keep me going thru the bad ones. and i guess thats technically true, but wheres the fucking joy and elation and excitement and rush of blood to the limbs and the head that comes with the good things? that tell you that thats what happening and its not just endless nothing? its so fucked up to live begrudgingly, unenthusiastically, utterly unmoved. its so upsetting to just sit there and look at the fucking clock numbers change and the sun move across the sky. its so wrong. its so wrong. i hate it here. i hate these 4 stupid walls. and the bigger walls outside of them. im so dead and shrivelled up and blackened inside and im also the gardener watching that depressing disaster happen, crying (im crying rn) and screaming what the FUCK do i do. what the FUCK. its so frustrating. downright fucking torturous. its just. yeah. im just in pain. empathetic and sympathetic to my own suffering. and that takes a toll on me. ngl.

itll be ok, after all of this. im not running out of time.

excited for tomorrow when i get to tell my therapist that it doesnt matter if i go to sleep at 10 pm or 3 am i rarely have the motivation to stop sleeping before im forced to get up for lunch or a class or in this case, an expensive therapy session and thats such a fucking SHIT way to exist like my limp flesh vessel is just getting dragged along to do the motions for 2-3 menial obligations, what the FUCK

SHES PROBABLY BUSY ITS 3 PM ON A WEDNESDAY SHE MIGHT NOT EVEN LOOK AT HER PHONE UNTIL LIKE FRIDAY OR THE WEEKEND CALM DOWN. calm down. its fine. you already sent her what you wanted to say already anyway. BUT WHAT IF SHE NEEDS MROE CLARIFICATION, no shes not gonna. shes not gonna need that. shes like. a professional. its fine. it really is fine. but i HATE having an dead phone hbhhuyuyhgufngdenfsxdbe everythings going okay. right on track. right on it. right on the way to therapy town with a rlly trained and experienced person and friendly and approachable. oh yeah. oh yeah. yeah. dont worry. youll probably be able to turn your phone on again in like the evening. no more cut off incommunicado bs.

look im just scared that ill be stuck with someone who a) just gives me the self-help bullshit like "clean your room and try to smile more", or b) actually tries to help me find solutions but refuses to consider the material dimension, a long winded version of "its all in your head", and think im stubborn when that turns out to be just not enough, but they dont know the first thing abt dialectical materialism so its like we're speaking two different languages

well i cant get too upset that this fucking process is so fucking stressful because i already fucking knew it was gonna be like that. still kinda upset tho. i just want to set up a god damn date with any motherfucker who does more than flaccid fucking freudian psychoanalysis i absolutely do NOT need to get any more IN my head i need to get OUT HERE NOW and do things different. somehow. i dont know what. thats what the fuck im trying to figure out.....

i hate email-sending pains. why the FUCK is this a thing. i cant FUCKING breathe because my throat is closing up like a fucking mouse trap I WOULD LOVE TO CALM DOWN so the muscles can fuckbngi relax but its hard while it feelsl ike im getting ufcking strangled!!!!!!!!!

i want to realize that when everything is said and done school aint shit. like. i try to do the thing. i try to do the work. so i can put the knowledge in my head and the skills in my hands. so i can work with that. so i can do other things (beautifully put if you ask me). but thats all i can do really. just try. and thats what i do. but like. theres something so much bigger going on and thats what makes it so hard for me to do anything. including school. its like. i suffer. i suffer every day. i cry. yeah im still crying. its like the floodgates opened yesterday or really the day before except i didnt parse it as crying because im a distracted mess. and since then its been an almost continuous thing. im trying not to freak out about it. not to catastrophize. theres nothing wrong if i keep crying like every day for a while. that means that i need it (and god knows i need it). it doesnt mean this is gonna be me for the rest of all time or anything. it just means that i'm in pain. and ive been in pain for so long that i dont know what not hurting is like. or i do know, but im pretty sure thats moments when the pain gets so bad and/or persistent that i get numb as a response. hypoarousal and the like. but maybe some of those moments weren't like that, just not being in a lot of pain. i dont know, thats the thing. i dont know what normal is. i know that ive never been and will never be "normal" by anyone elses standards. but i also dont know what my own normal is or if i even have one. but thats beside the point. im just. in pain. feels like im bleeding all the time. its just the flow of the thing that fluctuates. can i heal? can i ever heal? ive had some pretty healing moments and conversations with people i love, i think. i remember the fact of having them, at least. not much about the moments themselves, or the people. because i have such shitty memory. i forget good moments that i want to remember. i forget people i love and the reassuring words they say to me and the things they do for me that i want to remember, even if it was the only thing i could ever remember. but i forget having felt feelings. and i lose that. i lose all that. what am i left with? the shitty things. the shitty people. the trauma. the regrets. and the shitty present, where im suffering and out of my mind, and i desperately need some sort of reminder that it can get better. but fine. maybe i cant have that. thats fine. ive accepted it. but i need something else, anything to keep me going. just, anything. to hold on to. so no, i cant take a test. i cant do an assignment. i cant even send a message. im writhing in pain. im crying my eyes out or waiting for a chance to do so every waking moment. i go to sleep and have nightmares that i forget about but they still somehow burn a fear into my memory anyway. im on fire. im sick. and ive been sick for so long that its made me weak and disoriented. something needs to change