It’s not that I don’t have words to say
I just don’t want to be the one that speaks them
To say that I’m currently in a funk would be an extreme understatement. I haven’t felt this awful since probably well maybe since 2016? And oh boy was that a horrendous year. Is this year as bad? I’m not sure yet we’ve just reached the halfway point so I can’t really say for certain right now. It isn’t nearly as awful yet but unlike what I previously thought which was that I was going through a series of “funks” or phases of depression that I would get out of it given I stood my ground and just endured the shit times. Kept telling myself I was used to these, that it wasn’t worth worrying about. For the most part that was kind of true… There were periods where I didn’t feel as hopeless anymore and even some days I felt genuinely happy. Well, maybe more accurately days where I’ve experienced mania. However as time has passed I’ve noticed a pattern and a similarity in the things I often obsessed over when I was in these “funks” such as feelings of inadequacy, longing, anxiety (just in general and for very specific situations). Not to say any of these things were the reason for why I fell into these funks again. Maybe it’s an amalgamation of all of them and my refusal to talk with anybody about them for one reason or another, maybe it’s just a chemical imbalance and I just tend to (over)think about the same things when I’m depressed/sad/have too much time alone to think, or maybe I just enjoy feeling this way. Well I don’t really “enjoy” it but I will admit to feeling more comfortable when I’m depressed. That’s possibly because I just don’t have enough energy to worry about all the little stuff that worries me on a daily basis when I’m not extremely down in the dumps like I am now. Possibly it’s due to me just being depressed so often that it’s become a part of my identity. I’m the depressed, socially anxious, awkward, barely human writer/game developer/whatever. That could be all I know.
This is a strange post.. It’s not really meant for anything. It’s inspired by a song again, but the song itself doesn’t have anything to do with the content of this post. Just that I’ve related to the lyrics and that it’s motivated me to write.. something I guess. I know writing this won’t make me feel any better. I’m not expressing anything new about myself so it’s not like I’m using this to express a part of myself or a feeling that I normally keep secret. If you know me, you’ll probably know I’m depressed already… or that at least I have I get depressed regularly often. I suppose I wanted to make a post that I could actually show up on the site. Unlike the last one where I kind of broke a few unwritten rules I’ve given myself about writing posts here. To have a central idea/some kind of message or “and this is what I’ve learned from this” within the post, try not to talk about other people (friends or family) and any situation involving them if its recent, or involve feelings that I still currently have. I have my reasons for why I try and avoid doing this, but I really needed to fully express all that was on my mind and I really hoped it’d help if even just a little. I needed some sort of catharsis but I received none. And this post is probably the one I’ll keep in the long run when I look back at this time in my life to see how I was dealing with this and what came from it. If I get the chance.
How terrifying is the idea just how much words can change the world around you, the relationships you’re apart of and the people in those relationships. It’s why I try not to say too many of them, but the silence is just as powerful.
In case you didn’t already know this, I am very socially anxious. And no, not shy. Sure, that’s what it looks like most of the time but I wish I was just shy. I was this was just pre-show jitters. I mean even talking with my friends still makes me uncomfortable and anxious. In the
He found her body was a wonderful succession of details. He liked staring at her thighs as she was kneeling down because they shimmered in the soft light. And he quite liked that her clean feet were sometimes dirty. He secretly loved looking at her breasts while she was doing something. He loved looking at
I promise soon I will start writing some posts that don’t have anything to do with past relationships, endings, or moving on. These have been core themes I’ve been thinking a lot about and have been experiencing so even when I try to avoid talking about said things, I end up writing about it anyway.