Can someone please tell me what the fuck this means and why my father sent it to me I have legitimately been crying and shitting tears for 20 minutes
SEPTEMBER 4, 2025, 5:02 AM:
The way to describe my mood lately is unclear. Antsy, I suppose? I should be happy. I was happy. There's still happiness, but it is masked by something else. Worry, anxiety.
I ruined my sleep schedule again. I keep having dreams where I scream at my mother. Last night I dreamt that I had a mini bike, and I kept yelling at my mother, then would drive that mini bike home, in the complete dark, going the wrong way through traffic.
I have officially started school. My college class is eerily easy, but it is English 101. For high school, I somehow put myself in 3 electives that, in the Edgenuity program, require I do several projects a week for each class.
My boyfriend finished his first week of college. I'm really proud of him. I've known him for a bit now, but it still feels like I'm trying to get him to open up. We are extremely similar in many ways (matching autism!) but the opposite socially. I am loud, shameless, and bubbly. He is quiet, shy, and reserved. I think he still has resolve to mask, and I'm pretty sure he does it around me. We are both still unmasking each other, I suppose.
Being with him doesn't feel like a honeymoon phase. I don't have that constant feeling of "being in love" but there is still lovesickness. It feels steady. I don't talk to him 24/7. We both like our alone times, where we do whatever it is we do.
I'm trying to arrange another date for us to see each other, but things keep getting in the way.
END TIME: 5:13 AM
SEPTEMBER 4, 2025, 10:45 PM:
Felt like shit when I woke up this evening. I actually wanted to die. It took me three hours to get out of bed. However, my parents left for several hours, so I took the opportunity to let myself be loud and play music.
It helped a bit, but I still felt like shit, so I thought "hey, instead of stewing in your luteal misery like you always do, how about you do something to make yourself feel better?" So I actually did something productive for once and I washed my bedsheets, took a shower, and threw away some things, because usually being dirty is the source of like 70% of my problems. I also got some stressful schoolwork out of the way.
I still feel not great, like I don't want to talk to anyone at all, and when anyone tries to text me I get annoyed instead of excited, but at least I'm in a mostly clean little bubble and happy by myself instead of being in a dirty little bubble and hating myself.
I have work to do in the next 3 days. It will be miserable. It will be grueling. But maybe I'll make some money and be a few hundred dollars richer.
END TIME: 10:53 PM
SEPTEMBER 7, 2025, 11:48 PM:
My weekend was miserable. I did jack. Probably made jack. Was sick the entire weekend too. I can't tell if it's the antibiotics or if something else is wrong with me. I also can't sleep when I try to either. I lay down and then this awful, jackhammering headache ensues. Last night I was only able to sleep because I dug up my disposable and hit it a few too many times.
My boyfriend might be coming over on Friday. His dad wants to talk my parents. I don't really want that to happen, because gross, I know what they're going to talk about. It feels like this shouldn't have to be a discussion to be had about grown adults but we live under our parents' roofs, I guess.
END TIME: 11:53 PM
SEPTEMBER 8, 2025, 11:40 PM:
I woke up today absolutely miserable, but in a different way.
I woke up to zero texts from anyone I had left messages to, and to being left on read. From there my thoughts absolutely spiraled and I spent four hours sobbing my eyes out until my face was so flushed that I looked like a ripe tomato.
I realized, wow, I've gone so low that I'm sobbing over a boy. I don't do that. But I'm also not a pussy (for now, I think), so I texted him and talked about it. I was still sobbing, he said sorry about thirty million times, but I guess I feel better now.
I guess I realized that things are slipping away from me. My best friend is hanging out with other people since school started. I sat in the living room trying to talk to my mom for an hour, but it's like talking to a brick wall. My dad only talks about how I stay up all night and don't leave the house. My schoolwork is quickly becoming too much to handle.
It's starting to put bad, bad thoughts back in my head and I haven't dealt with those thoughts since middle school. I like to think I'm better at handling them now but it is really, really difficult to want to handle them when it feels like literally no one wants you around, and you have no resources whatsoever to do anything to change that. I can't drive anywhere. I can't meet new, real people. Anyone I try to meet online is either weirded out by the absolute freakazoid that just texted them a screenshot of a PornHub comment or they're a fucking NPC with no personality.
It makes me want to give up.
END TIME: 11:53 PM
SEPTEMBER 9, 2025, 9:47 AM:
I was up all night, blazed, doing jack shit, until that one period of sativa hits where you just get started and don't stop.
I spent three hours just working. I cleaned, ordered groceries, made a jug of tea, washed blankets, and cleaned out the mile high mess that is my closet. I had shit I didn't know existed. Shit I had extremely vague memories of playing with as a child. I found a bunch of shit I can donate, and a whole bag of clothes to donate. I found a pair of actual fucking maracas from Mexico that my parents got in 2008.
I'm going to shower next and see how long I can keep this productivity going. I told my boyfriend that I was going to need time to obsessively clean before he came over, and I am going to make sure I adhere to that.
END TIME: 9:53 AM
SEPTEMBER 11, 2025, 2:46 AM:
It is 9/11.
Charlie Kirk died less than 24 hours ago. I am not going to pretend I care, because that is unfaithful. I care about what it represents. Charlie will be a martyr. I am glad for this. I only wish he survived to continue debating.
A school shooting was also occurring simultaneously at the time of Charlie Kirk's death. Several months ago, two Democrat Minnesota senators were shot in their homes. A Ukrainian refugee woman was stabbed randomly on a Charlotte train. The news did not cover these things. MSNBC tried to claim that a supporter shot him on accident.
Reddit is celebrating his death and some of them are pretending they aren't, and they are sharing quotes of things he said that are unfavorable, like that justifies it. Charlie's last words were "gang violence."
I woke up from a nightmare at around 1 AM. There was a thing. It kidnapped me, raped me, forced me to bear its young, and when I got away, it was inescapable. I asked my mother to take me to the doctor, screaming "I swear I'm hallucinating!" She got an appointment that was "too far into the week to run from" and I begged her to take me to the ER. She didn't want to drive me. I woke up crying, paranoid, and I immediately texted my boyfriend, who somehow answered immediately too, and was also terrible at trying to make me feel better, but I really just needed to tell someone because it felt like I was being watched.
END TIME: 3:00 AM
SEPTEMBER 17, 2025, 2:27 AM:
My boyfriend came over last Saturday. Twas fucking awesome. We ate cashews, watched a nature documentary, lamented over Cadiki the wild dog pup's death, watched the Eric Andre Show, and I sat in his ginormous lap. I wasn't kidding when I said his hands were fucking huge. He also has these veins that I just want to give a paper cut to, if you know what I mean...
Exchanged a few kisses. They were quick and kind of sucked but still sweet nonetheless. He seemed really happy. I heard his last girlfriend (his one and only previous girlfriend) absolutely sucked and it makes me wonder if they ever kissed or said "I love you."
I added a page for Lou, which actually made me really cringe. I have never shared her 'lore' anywhere, to anyone, except for my best friend.
I also added a fucking dope effect to some of the links on the site. RIP mobile users.
END TIME: 2:38 AM
SEPTEMBER 18, 2025, 8:54 PM:
Can someone please tell me what the fuck this means and why my father sent it to me I have legitimately been crying and shitting tears for 20 minutes
SEPTEMBER 25, 2025, 5:58 AM:
Been a while.
Things are going well, aside from general anxiety. I have found that every time I try to sleep there is this unending ache in my lower back and between my shoulderblades. I also ruined my sleep schedule, and it is bothering me.
I find myself worried about the future, but more hopeful than I have ever been. I still have no idea what to major in, and it is especially hard to pick since I can't imagine myself ever being in a job and being happy simultaneously. I do not fare well when most of my day is not free time, and that makes me feel like a lazy scumbag, but I cannot deny what it is.
I keep having these bits where I remember I am coexisting in the same building as my mother and I legitimately have to vomit. I cannot believe my own mother has become a mysterious source of anxiety. It's like I only ever relax when around my favorite person and my favorite person only. It teeters on a dangerous line of dependency.
I want to see my boyfriend and I want to paint his nails. He would look absolutely fucking adorable in black nail polish. His birthday is in a week. He specifically didn't want me to get him something, but I must. He really likes old timey clothes, tailcoats and such, but I'm not sure if that is too much.
School is... school. I get up and do what I have for the day, it's easy, ChatGPT is the best for shit like projects. The only issue is that I have to edit the document it makes specifically so it looks like a lazy teenager made it and not an AI thinking it's supposed to look nice.
I keep thinking about babies. Having them. Holding them. Loving them. I am not of the age where I should be having one, not yet. As soon as possible, I have decided.
END TIME: 6:12 AM
SEPTEMBER 26, 2025, 2:24 AM:
The dog had puppies. Well, puppy, singular, and it was flipping huge and stuck and it had to be pulled out half-dead and we spent an hour rubbing it and annoying it until it started breathing and squirming. As of now, he is breathing but not eating.
I kept hearing this "wahhhhh" sound coming from the dog, and went to go check and oh my, she is giving birth on my bed, and screaming akin to a human woman. I've seen a lot of puppies since I was little and none of the mothers screamed like a human woman. This dog is incredibly strange, it literally never stops making noise even when it is giving birth.
END TIME: 2:28 AM
SEPTEMBER 26, 2025, 8:12 AM:
I struggle a lot with coming to terms with being me. I can't handle the way I write, the way I draw, the way I talk, or the way I perceive people.
The way I write will always be too mechanical. Too methodical, like I'm writing a textbook and not a story. The way I draw will always look recognizable because the way I do it will never change even if I want it to, and it is recognizable in a bad way. The way I talk will always be annoying and shrill and I will always sound like a nine year old with the kind of autism that sexually assaults people instead of building rockets. I will always sort the people I know into a category and I will always be jealous of every single one of them for some arbitrary trait they have or something they have created.
I will always be small, I will always be weak, I will always be reliant on someone.
I will always be a walking personality paradox.
I will always be someone who masters nothing even if they put 1,000 hours into it.
I will always start statements with "I."
I thought about someone this morning, in a dirty context, and the thought of him gave me the exact same feeling as if I just ate a quarter of a pot gummy. This feeling lasted a few hours, and I relished in it. I know exactly why this happened. It brings me more joy.
I find that lately, it is easier to communicate my thoughts into words. But it has also gotten harder to get someone to listen and truly reciprocate. I think, perhaps, I am craving a kind of human connection that does not exist.
I also think that it has gotten harder to keep up my drive to create. I feel as if I am drifting apart from a lot of things that have made me. I think maybe this is growing up.
END TIME: 8:24 AM
SEPTEMBER 28, 2025, 7:34 AM:
My mom started a dog fight, I had to help break it up, I thought I was Billy Badass and wasn't thinking and stuck my hand in the dog's mouth. My left ring finger was sliced open about 1/2 of an inch in. Had to go to Urgent Care and they glued it back together. I'm on amoxicillin so it doesn't get infected.
She blamed me for getting bit and played on her phone the whole urgent care trip. My mother is not my mother, she is my slob room mate.
END TIME: 7:38 AM