I don’t know what to say but something needs to be said. I get these spikes of pressure in my mind like something atrocious and evil is going to happen, like someone is going to hurt me, like something bad is going to happen. I fear so greatly. I don’t know. It must not be real. My psychiatrist has me on this or that and it is always a trip trying the next thing. Bad trip bad.
I have too many books to read and not enough reading skills to read them. I want to talk to my brother more, both I guess, though I was at this specific moment thinking of middle. They are different and they have different roles as family members to me and I talk to them in different ways. Or, I would, if I were allowed to, by them.
They don’t really, they don’t like, talking. I think.
Mom made these asian noodles but with like normal pasta but asian peanut oil and stuff like that. It’s such an odd flavor. It tastes terrible but in a really good way. I ate it.
There’s nothing to sustain me. I’m so scared. Something bad is going to happen. I worked very hard on this script. It works. I got a lot of help from the coding community. What can I say. Sometimes other people know things you need to know and the only way to find out is to ask.
I have a Kindle. There are books on it.
Mom got a tablet. Dad bought it for her. No one asked.
We need to get her a new phone, too. Hers is old and broken. Phones are kind of a basic necessity in life, Western life, or everywhere really. Anywhere civilized. I don’t mean that pejoratively. At all. In the least. Objectively.
We’re going to Europe, I won’t say where for confidentiality, maybe I’ll leak it later, later this year. I hate having to hide facts about myself out of fear. It used not to be like this. Or maybe I used not to share so much.
I want to get past the warmup period. When do I feel natural here. When is life normal. When can I simply write. Why is all of this so hard.
I don’t get it.
I give up.
Again and again and again.
I give up.