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Episodic Torture 16:15 Bedroom. Pacing. Bathroom. In front of the mirror. Water running. edited at Fort Funston to mitigate unhinged scribblings and adding a lot of stuff too with a musical score
17:04
August 31, 2022

having a somewhat emotional episode

day four no messages from her
she said she'll never leave me and there were enough fakeouts for me to believe her.

the last time she said anything to me, about me, just told me that im garbage
that they're just choices i make

which cut me off of talking to her about any of my issues like they matter. there's only one answer for a choice. no accounting for what youre going through when someone sees you hitting yourself

shes since been nicer to me. like listening. and patient. and I've tried to see her for that. i have seen her for that. sometimes i feel like a different person. she sometimes does.

but I don't think she has once said anything about me that was as nearly complimentary as what she said was disparaging.
and nowhere near as glowing i feel jealous and starved
and i don't tell her nice things about her as a way to make her say nice things about me
but its hard for me to say anything to anyone
i try to be somewhat selfless but appreciating her --> makes me feel more alone more than i've ever been for anyone
wanting to make up to her all the times i spoke past her and never asked her how she was doing. be an actual friend.
not just an opportunistic feeder. trying to turn off pain.
but caring that much just makes the jealousy worse. doesnt want me to be a close friend. just wants to help me develop healthy relationships with anyone else in the world

one time she said aftercare is important even though we agreed its a disgusting term used by degenerates
no one gave me that after she told me how worthless i am. but she didn't say worthless. its just how i felt hearing it from someone i tell everything to. but i guess i need to be spanked and puked on to get some consolation for being shoved from a warm place to the margins of humanity. cant just experience the humiliation through a conversation. has to be with me in a fucking diaper to get the consolatory assurance that despite my flaws im not a piece of shit and that my role in her life is something. that there is a value.
and then when i just kept spiraling out of control
shed act like i'm doing it out of nowhere

but i don't think it was totally out of nowhere

i'm not sure that's the reason
and i don't necessarily think i'd be much better off if it didnt happen. maybe id be in similar pain if she never dismantled me. i don't know.
because i was being temperamental before.
which is why she called me a piece of shit. in other words
and is irritated. possibly to the point of just finally dropping me and letting me rot

but i think that is why her talking about anyone else is why i kept bringing it back to myself. have to keep it in the past tense. because it might be over. ignored her turn in the game we play. never does that. makes me want to kill myself

she never said anything about me that balanced out what she said
and as bad as i felt and tried expressing that she never thought highly enough of me to volunteer that there she sees more to me than what she told me that time. She just says how I left her no options. Which is probably true. But she never says anything… good.

so maybe it's best we don't talk because she makes me want to tolerated. not anymore

if she ever reads this i hope its not for a long time
i think seeing me so broken down and burned out because of her will just make her disgusted. so i hope this feeling is long gone by the time she reads this if she ever reads this. i'm not going to kill myself but i'm in such a hellhole and i just keep falling into pits. so maybe she'll read it after i'm gone. which is ok i guess. i think once someone's gone you probably feel less disgusted with them because whatever good was in them is gone too and maybe being away will make that balance out everything about me that she dislikes

i thought being sensitive was good once
everything painful is just a key to hurting me more.
nothing about this is good.
nothing about this makes anyone care.

the tiny paragraphs were initially after the next one but i don't want to finish with that because its such an ugly display. just want it in the middle so its not a bookend for my story.

i feel like garbage talking to her
i used to feel like a real person talking to her more real than talking to anyone else
but she completely dismantled everything about me and never tried to reattach anything

while constantly casually dropping info about how others are good.

and she asks. asked if she should just stop bringing other people up. i i figure no she should. i shouldn't have some skewed idea about my importance based on what i don't hear. i wanted her to say things about me too. everything good she thought i had to infer. never knew if she even thought anything good about me. just tried to put together a picture which may or may not be imaginary.

im going to finally assemble her birthday gift. i think it can still have some heartfelt in it despite feeling so low and subhuman when she addresses me. because i wrote all these partial letters. i don't know how to write a good letter i just kept typing different notes. so i'm going to write each letter fragment on a different piece of paper. maybe with some drawings. so it still has the energy of when i wrote it and not whatever sad suicidal ideation this is. i don't think she'll have the patience to read it but maybe she can read a piece once in a while after i'm dead if she ever wants to talk again.

I think constantly trying to find a way to cope with pain has turned me into a huge asshole.

I've wanted to reduce my substance use in general. It's seemed impossible because I took her advice on like pathology. When she said she thought I could do more than I do, I took it as if trying in small amounts doesn't matter, and that made me want to give up trying at all. When she said I can choose not to think certain ways, I can choose not to be obsessive, I took it as there's no point in seeking anything to numb or treat pain. There's no reason to split a big task into small parts. There's no reason to ever take breaks because your output should be more. everything good about others is a reminder of that. I don't feel like I can face people anymore. Despite that, I'm trying in small amounts because I don't know another way. I went back to putting an hour between self-medicating. I have a bad association with that tactic because it reminds me of being at work. But it's a way, maybe not a good way, maybe not meaningful, maybe nothing to anyone, to give a compulsive behavior a timeline instead of being an incomprehensible mess. My fear is if I minimize use I'll discover that I imagined everything. That every time I felt hurt or wronged it was because I was wrong. I can face having a disproportionate response. Being too emotional over something I should have seen in a more measured way. But I don't want to face a version of myself that is so divorced from logic that I have to look back at every time I felt hurt and just blame myself more than I already do, and add on the embarrassment of seeing myself in third person and thinking of how I looked to them. Yesterday overall felt better doing this. Today is about as bad as other days have been. But I left the house earlier which is very good. Going to buy candy.

anyway this is all over the place. i wrote it in my room then in the mirror then in the car. i hope she likes her gifts. i hope she finds something to like Fort Funston I've wanted to reduce my substance use in general. It's seemed impossible because I took her advice on like pathology. When she said she thought I could do more than I do, I took it as if trying in small amounts doesn't matter, and that made me want to give up trying at all. When she said I can choose not to think certain ways, I can choose not to be obsessive, I took it as there's no point in seeking anything to numb or treat pain. There's no reason to split a big task into small parts. There's no reason to ever take breaks because your output should be more. It should be like her bf's. And then every time I saw anything that reminded me of that I compared myself, unfavorably. Everything that looked like a slight progress was ground into nothing. I felt like she had no respect for anything about me anymore, and everything good about others is a reminder me of that. I don't feel like I can face people anymore. Despite that, I'm trying in small amounts because I don't know another way. I went back to putting an hour between self-medicating. I have a bad association with that tactic because it reminds me of being at work. But it's a way, maybe not a good way, maybe not meaningful, maybe nothing to anyone, to give a compulsive behavior a timeline instead of being an incomprehensible mess. My fear is if I minimize use I'll discover that I imagined everything. That every time I felt hurt or wronged it was because I was wrong. I can face having a disproportionate response. Being too emotional over something I should have seen in a more measured way. But I don't want to face a version of myself that is so divorced from logic that I have to look back at every time I felt hurt and just blame myself more than I already do, and add on the embarrassment of seeing myself in third person and thinking of how I looked to them.
Dairyland