I had a dream that my boss and I were using mech suits to unload a truck at work
I work a 10 hour shift, come home and my dad is mad at me that the dishes aren’t done. That I fell a fucking sleep and forgot to pull my car in the driveway. Is he the only one allowed to be fucking tired.
Is it too much to ask for someone to do such things as these for me.. Why do I feel guilty for wanting someone to care? Why do I feel guilty for every damn little thing?
I wish my family understood that a mental hospital doesn’t work like a physical one. I can’t just go there, get better and come home. I went there, they made me promises while under the supervision of a therapist and then I come home and nothing changes.. Back to the same shit that put me there in the first place.
It’s getting increasingly difficult to keep myself going. I have so many goals and ideas and I can’t get past the roadblock that is depression.
I was alright for a while, at least I tried to be. And now I’m back where I started and I don’t know what to do.
I think I’ll play piano for a while and pretend the world doesn’t exist.
I wish sometimes I could get out of society the way I can just get off the computer. The same idiotic ideals and recycled tag lines and imagery are exhausting and I wish I could find some peace and quiet.
I thought naming rpg characters was hard, now I’m sitting here trying to name a clothing line.
Being human is a blessing and a curse because I have the ability to learn and understand beyond normal creatures capacity and create art and music and poetry, but then sometimes, a lot of times, I sit here and also understand that I am just a speck in a huge universe and wonder why I even exist.
I don’t know which makes me more sad, if sad is the right word, the people who make troll blogs or the people who actually respond to them.