I want to write about what I feel but I don’t really know what I feel right now. As always, life feels like a dream.
I been working hard on focusing on my job, so I can move out one day.
The idea of being outside this house feels so surreal. I can not imagine being a ‘person’ with a ‘life’. I can’t imagine having my shit together enough to function as an independent adult.
It’s going to be so surreal (if it ever happens) when I go around life, meeting people, and knowing I can’t talk anything about my past and the fact that my life is so fucking abnormal.
Sex abuse came to my mind while I was writing that. I want to talk about it but it’s long and complicated. I have symptoms, and triggers, and fuzzy memories, but I have nothing concrete. Although if I had to go with what I feel, I would 100% say that I was abused.
I don’t know, I feel like it doesn’t matter anyway. I was used by everyone around me when I was a child, it makes no difference. My past self doesn’t exist, I’m just a dissociating bubble floating through time.
I guess that’s what I’ve learned from writing on this blog: there has never been a moment since I was born where I wasn’t fucking dissociating.
I’m so fucking old. Maybe I’ll never get to live my life the way I want to. Maybe it was too late, they ruined my life forever and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I don’t know. I just have to take it one day at a time I guess.
Bonus: yesterday I remembered how during the past summer I was going through such a hard episode of depression and BPD that I didn’t have the energy to eat/cook/shop for food, to the point where I was eating so little I could see all the ribs on my chest.
But yeah. I just need to move on, right? Live my life, be present!
I can’t. My mind cannot stay inside my brain, it’s too painful.