(December 26th, 2024)

I don't feel real, I feel
disconnected from the memories
I hold, like they aren't mine.
I've been telling myself over
and over again that I only
exist in the present moment,
the past and future don't exist
or as a contradiction that I
existed then so I was there then.
The only me that exists is the one
in the present moment, the moment
I leave the room, my mindset 
changes, along with myself as an
individual. In that sense who I
am as a person in the moment will
only exist as long as this paragraph
goes on, this topic. All of these
thoughts lead back to the eventual
solution of suicide in some way. 
It's been advertised to me as the
ultimate solution, escaping the loop
of only really being here in the 
present. I wish I wouldn't feed
into such destructive feedback 
loops. 

I entered the shower today, facing
what was before me, visions. The
past, what happened during the start
of 2023, October. I was in the backseat
of the car, driving over a road called
Mariposa, a shelter was around the area.
We couldn't take care of my cat anymore,
my guardian angel of sorts. Apathy was
the only thing on my mind at the time.
Nothing in that moment registered except
for the old chipped asphalt that awaited
us. We stopped at a gas station, it hadn't
been remodeled since the early 80's. There
was an AM/PM stationed at the building 
however. With the cat in the car, I stared
into the building. I wanted a little snack
for the road but decided against it. Driving
along an overgrown part of town, we arrived
at the shelter. The parking lot empty except
for two cars. Entering the building, the lady
at the front desk examined the cat, asked us
if she was chipped. My mom wanted to pawn
her off as a stray. No chip, no identification
that she was ever our cat. They couldn't take
her, there wasn't enough room in the shelter
for the cat. When we got home, she left through
the doggy door and we never saw her again.
More and more moments like these play in
my head over and over again. In great detail,
like my soul is leaving my body, I'm back in 
that moment. But in the end, all of those 
moments feel hollow. I don't feel as if I 
experienced those moments, they feel foreign. 

My brothers have arrvied, the festivities 
start soon. I will probably feel better in
a couple of hours. I'll update in probably
nine hours. 

[20:51 PST]

Had a good time, drank a bit of wine, I
did not like the wine. Though we did play
Azul, that was fun. There isn't much to
comment on. 

I've tried writing a paragraph down a 
couple of times now but it never goes
anywhere. Life isn't too interesting 
at the moment and I don't feel like
commenting on my past at the moment.
Sure, I do learn a bit about myself 
and how I could handle certain problems
in the future but what's the point anymore.
The problems I've faced this year aren't
ones that are solved with therapy. By the
same light though, I have to keep trying 
to solve my problems. The reason I deleted
the two last drafts of the apragraph are 
because of their tone. Hopelessness, 
dread, and self loathing. That token seems
to follow through every one of these logs
in small or big ways. I must keep on going,
I must keep on telling myself that tomorrow
will be better, I am not ready to leave
this world yet. Maybe in the IOP group
I'll learn how to cope with my CPTSD or
my psychotic disorder in a healthy way,
though I don't need IOP to learn healthy
coping mechanisms. There's a vast array
of resources online, I just have to find
the right ones, the ones not shrouded in
self-interest. 

Today is the day that I've started to 
delete most of my social media accounts.
I spend hours doing nothing but scrolling,
I could be doing something productive with
my time. Bluesky was the first one to go,
instagram will be the second. Today I 
hope to start bettering myself beyond
going to the gym.

Have a good rest of your evening SDF
-May