hello. i don't know who i am lately. this is my first attempt at something like journalling in a long, long time. maybe a year? that's really long for me anyways. i feel like i've changed so much. i feel often like i don't know who i am any more, but i don't think i ever had a steady grasp on that. maybe noone does?

i want to feel more grounded. i want to be more grounded. i want back parts of my old self, but i think they're all tangled up in the parts i'd rather not get back. right now i'm channeling some of the bad parts, but some good too, i hope. it's thanksgiving, 2025, and i'm drinking and getting high alone in my apartment, waiting for my roommate and best friend to get home. i decided to skip my family's events. i feel bad about it, but i don't like who they see me as or who i am when i'm around them, and i haven't been myself lately anyways, and i've been overclocking myself for good and bad reasons lately anyways, and i just. didn't. and i feel so bad about it anyways.

i haven't been as in touch with my other best friend lately. it's a scheduling thing, and my phone mic is broken so i have to use earbuds which are a sensory badtime, and part of me feels disconnected from her and part of me misses who i am around her so bad it makes me sick. i wish she lived closer. when i realized i had to move away from her i called her drunk and crying in the bathtub and begged her to move in with me so i could afford to stay. but she's change-averse, and i had to move, and once she mentioned that she wished i had stayed and i reminded her of that whole interaction and she said she hadn't remembered it and that maybe she would change that but probably not and anyways it was too late then and it's too late now. i need to make her a care package.

i've been accidentally on-and-off ghosting this girl i met at a bar lately. girl? woman? you know. i don't know if i like her or i like the idea of liking her or like her when i'm drunk or like that she likes me. i don't know if i'm capable of liking people like that any more, at least right now. i don't know if i hate that or not.

i need to make a magic the gathering deck. my brother got me a proxy deck ticket for my birthday months ago. i just haven't remembered to make it. i feel bad about that.

i've been knitting a lot. it feels good to make things. i have to have gifts ready for the holidays, even though i fucking hate the holidays and i hate gift rituals. i think i'm using it to avoid other things, though.

my coworkers. the one who drives me to work has been stressing me out. their wife is probably going to leave them soon. i don't blame her. their whole relationship reminds me of my last one, but slightly worse in so many ways. s is bitter and depressive about it. i think i might be their only friend, and i don't really like them except as a coworker. m is anorexic and has deeper internalized misogyny than i thought possible. h is a wannarexic truecrime junkie who somehow still always cheers me up. k is the newest, and i think she's cool and want to hang out, but i think she's sober and i don't know, that's been harder for me lately.

it's getting uncomfortable to sit and type like this. i didn't write about anything i wanted to write about. but i'm glad i did this. i hope i come back to this and make it into the kind of thing i want, which is just a hazy cluster of ideas for now. and if i don't, that's ok too. if you're reading this, i love you. be well

it is slightly later this same evening. my body still hurts from being on the computer in this suboptimal setup. i think too much of my life right now is compromises with my space, my tools. of course, everything about life is deeply shaped by... what is easy, what is painful, what is routine, what is obvious. but like. i have to use my laptop because i don't have another non-phone computer. i have to keep it plugged in to the power and the internet. neither of these cords are very long. i can't run newer programs - even my old text editor isn't supported anymore. i got a new stool to replace my folded-up yoga mat and it's better for short sits but worse for long ones. i use the same dishes over and over because the sink is a nightmare twelve hours after i clean everything. i put off pissing because i know it'll wake up my roommate. i buy the expensive cereal because it comes in a bag that fits in my bag so i can carry it home easily. i wear clothes with the pocket arrangement my muscle memory is adapted to, even when i don't like how they feel.

nostalgia is an odd thing. most of my life i've been profoundly miserable. but it comes for me anyways, with a clear-plastic-shelled knife. of course it just seemed simpler because i was a kid. of course everything seemed more possible. but did it? i think in a lot of ways the life i have now would shock every past self of mine - i think they'd be overwhelmed with relief to see how far i've come, how well i'm doing. but it's still so hard, and i miss so much. does everyone feel this way?

i think i get like this when i'm alone, mostly. i don't know how to channel this when i'm around other people - except r, but they don't understand the way i wish they could, even though they get close. i love them anyways, that's ok, that's normal, i think. i don't think anyone can communicate this kind of thing exactly - i think people are addicted to little slivers of it, relatability, 90s kids things, just like me fr, microtrends, i don't know. i miss fucking webcomics. i miss zack and wiki. i miss feeling like i could get away with things. i still get away with things. i'm less alone than ever, less lonely than ever, and i still feel like there's a gaping hole where a self should be - maybe because i spent all that time meditating and deconstructing selfhood or whatever, lol.

my coworkers are all spamming the group chat with happy thanksgivings. case in point. i'm in groupchats! people are always reaching out to me, people want to spend time with me! and i don't know who i am or what i'm like, and i don't - !

okay. it's time to take another break. i'm still not getting anywhere. i love you. be well.

later again. i think writing my thoughts out is doing something. or maybe it's all the substances and solitude. or it could be nothing at all, or random chance, or maybe the ambient sound of cars and creaking floorboards has subconsciously affected me. i don't know anything at all. but i suspect that writing out my thoughts is doing something. i think it's good? i'm remembering things i've been forgetting over and over for ages. thinking in a different, maybe clearer way.

i want to go back to eating carbs again. i've been restricting because everything is setting off my disordered eating tendencies lately and low-carb is an easy way too feel less bloated without counting calories, but my choices are so limited i just end up eating too much candy or whatever anyways. i want to start buying and eating fruit again. i think it's a compromise that won't set off the dumb voice in my head too much. also, it's yummy and good for you.

i flipped thru my old journal. what a trip. i'm so, so fucking proud of them. i want to make future me proud of current me. i know it's hard but i know i can do it. ok. i love you. be well.