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Mentally Tired - Blog Posts
Why is it so hard sometimes to be able to get noticed on this platform? I make different content and I rarely see any likes or comments...
I feel the exact same way sadly
Things I'm good at :
• ??????????
• ???????
•????
• ???????
• feeling like a burden and bed rotting
please ignore if wanted, this is only venting out my thoughts 💭💭
Is anyone else sometimes forgetting who they are?
There are days where I forget I'm 22 years old, who used to draw her favorite characters, immerses herself in books such as Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, who stayed up as a child and to sneak into the kitchen and make herself strawberry milk, wanting to be a singer when so young and absolutely adored in going to playgrounds.
Whenever I see myself now, I forget that I was someone of my choice. Now, I only wonder what I'll make for dinner for my siblings, which of them are going off with friends and the time they'll be back, if there were days marked for parent-teacher conferences or upcoming performances and their schools, appointments for check-up or needing medicine for fevers, using any money I was gifted whether from birthdays or to buy myself something to get what my siblings need.
I can remember as a child, asides from attending school or visiting families, how normal it is to know how to make a bottle for a baby, to change diapers, to burp them, knowing what they can have and taking care of them whenever the adults were busy.
How normal is it that I learned to know so much for my siblings ever since I was a child, growing up knowing how to raise them, that I don't know what I like for myself anymore?
Do I still draw my favorite characters or whatever comes to mind?
Do I still read those thick books I used to carry everywhere?
Do I still just lay on my back with music playing in the background?
Do I still drink strawberry milk?
Ride bikes?
Karaoke with my cousin?
Why is it that the coffee I first took a sip of as a child now became a refuge to the hereditary migraines and headaches?
Why is it that I can take so much care for others but deny any sickness I'm undergoing to continue chores?
Is it because I'm scared of failing my siblings? Is it because I've grown so use to doing so much that it's unsettling for myself to be able to have time for myself?
Why am I only gaining help now, after my other relatives watched my breakdowns, my sickness from stress to heaving up whatever I had in my stomach, my grandmother whispering poisonous words about my mother to me whenever alone?
Why didn't I have help sooner? Why didn't they help when I had to switch to homeschooling because of my mental health declining and bullying I endured? Why didn't they help when I panicked for my siblings whenever sick, especially one with hydrocephalus? Why didn't they help when they saw me starve myself to give plenty to my siblings?
Why are they acting as if it's all in my head when I mentioned how my siblings and I keep to ourselves, staying out of their way because our mother wasn't allowed back in the house because of their own fault and hers?
I remember sitting in the darkness of the bathroom, hands clenching over the lower half of my face to muffle my crying, eyes burning and ears ringing because of all that I've been through. I remember tears in my eyes the second one of my cousins started yelling at me for something out of my control, nearly attacking me while an uncle watched and did nothing to stop her— only for another cousin to stop her and comfort me after while my siblings watched me.
I felt so pathetic and ashamed, having my siblings' eyes on me as I curled myself on my bed, fingers digging into my face and palms clamped over my lips as I felt my chest buzzing endlessly at the thought of my cousin, the one I considered another sibling, nearly punched me— my uncle watching, arms crossed and body relaxed, didn't move a muscle to intervene, the same man my relatives claim doesn't hate me or my siblings.
How I practically became a mother, unable to finish schooling during COVID-19 lockdown because all of my siblings had their classes, the younger ones needing someone to watch over them. I was 16, maybe 17 when I became their mother, called one by the last born child and sought for by my sibling with hydrocephalus for comfort at night to sleep in my bed and curl to my side.
At the first parent-teacher conference, I broke down because one of my siblings' elementary teacher saw how tired I was and helped with getting on my feet for GED.
I can't talk to the friends I had in highschool before transferring to homeschool because I'm no longer knowing who they are or become. Having no chances at dating with being so focused on my siblings and the social anxiety I have, not even knowing myself as I used to.
"You're over exaggerating."
"Learn to trust people."
"You're so independent."
"Your siblings are so dependent on you."
Words upon words, statement after statement, criticism after criticism.
I get so overwhelmed, overstimulated by stress and trying to do everything but then get told off as exaggerating what I do for my siblings.
I can't trust my relatives for my mom's side because so many have hurt me verbally, emotionally, mentally and nearly physically— I take so much from them to avoid it ever reaching my brothers and sisters, to where only tidbits of their nastiness reached the older ones.
I didn't want independence in the way it came. I needed others to see me drowning, see me reaching out to them when it became too much, shouldering and balancing too much on my plate, only to be dubbed as independent and thought as not needing assistance in any shape or form.
My siblings are dependent on me because they kicked out their father, they kicked out their mother, they never attended their conferences, they didn't see their first steps, they weren't the someone who cooked their food, did their laundry, showered them, cared for them when sick.
Hell, they only started helping now, only one of them is attempting to gain guardianship approved by our mother, only they have helped with getting what my kids need, their appointments, checking their grades.
I try to get back to writing, by gods I try, my mind spiraling with ideas of characters I break myself into pieces to create.
I try drawing again, each sketch lighthearted and faint in the light.
I try sewing to repair my clothes.
I try so much that it strains my aching body to relax and understand only now I'm getting the help I needed so long ago. I wonder if that small child from so long ago, who'd run for ladybugs and sing to the songs their mother grew up with, would ever come out to the light where there's no screaming aimed our way,
no argument so loud they'd cover their ears and clench their eyes shut,
no dizziness when having to get up and missing chances to eat for others to have,
no buzzing in their chests from the anxiety of the outside world.
Would we ever have a chance to build ourselves? Would we ever meet someone who'll stay by our side, grow to understand the meaning behind the eye bags and trembling hands, scratched knees and overstimulated thoughts? Would we ever get back to reading those books again, finding ourselves daydreaming of what'd it be like to be in those pages?
Sorry again for the long rambling and spouting, but I just needed to have it all typed out for now before anymore is thrown my way.
𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐎.
only now realizing how weird it is to start self care after taking care of others for so long; I've been taking care and practically raising my younger siblings for years since I was a child and grew up learning how, so having the house empty, siblings all at their school, I started laughing at how weird it is for using a hydrating sheet mask
may get back into writing after enduring the entire thanksgiving break— not much of a break having all of them home, some sick and others just gremlins
This has been so relevant for lately. This is almost not funny. Almost.
im full of an untamable rage that constantly seethes beneath my skin but im a real laid back dude dont worry about that
Everyday, and counting.
“Sometimes I feel dead, and I hate everybody”
Ottessa Moshfegh “My Year of Rest and Relaxation”
Parents: my child is okay!
The child: watches 10 hours of video essay, lives on tea and biscuits, writes 20k words on one sitting, has debates with themselves, hates everyone, sleeps more than 12 hours, has no goals, has no friends, does not realise the day-night cycle, cries randomly.
Parents: I choose to ignore that
I hate the idea that I've hurt somone, I can't stand thinking that I'm the reason somome has cried or felt alone and miserable, I dont ever seem to have reason for my actions I just don't think. I dont seem to ever think. I dont want people to worry about me or spend time thinking about me or even spend time on me in general and I feel as if im always doing somthing to hurt a person even by accident and that's somthing ill never be able to take back. "I'm not a mean dog.. I dont know why I bite.."[Not my art]
I think most of my life is being scared over simple human things, i truly dont know whats wrong with me but i despise the person i am, i hate the feelig that i get when a pit in stomcach resides and i have to live with the memory of a simple human error I committed,I dont mean to be rude I dont mean to be creepy I dont mean to hate people I don't mean any of it. If a time machine was a real concpt I'd simply use it to fix the itty bitty mistakes I made that no one would give a second thought to, if im not perfect and surpress everything I made to be well than I am an individual who does not deserve to live. I hate wallowing in the things I've done, constantly thinking of the choices I make and the things I end up doing, I am forever stuck in my mind and will rot away as my blackened hole grows.[Not my art]
Every so often, I am reminded of my dysfunctional brain as it scrambles to remember thoughts that I feel that I do not have anymore and have lost in the deep sea of changing desires and misery and Like my sanity my brain is slowly decaying with every passing day as I have denied myself a rose coloured life and wallow in the tainted window of my own self reflection and hinder on every small detail of every small thing I did to mess up. Everything in the world is my fault. If I can't save everyone, then I dont deserve saving.[Not my art]
Every so often my fast beating heart, hole in my stomach and reason for my ever lasting disdain comes back and I feel as though the world is collapsing in on itself as there is nothing I can do to help, so all I can do is wallow in my selfishly horrid misery accompanied by the lasting memory of where the present was not nie and I had no reason to be flocked with the thoughts of how selfishly drowned I am in my own feelings[Not my art]
Nothing in the world belongs to me
Not happiness
Not misery
Not numbess
Not love
Not the tide and sea
All I have is the emptiness that inhabits thee
I cant stand to be myself
Drowning ship in the vast darkness of thoughts
Rain splashing down gently on the habour and all
The tide shortens but my heart keeps beating
The fish swim away and the jellyfish glow curiously
The ship slowly gets dragged in
Wilting and shedding sorrow like centaurea cyanus
Will this black pit in the sky ever cases?
Will these penumbra shackles ever release?
Will the ship ever sail again through the sea?
Will someone rescue and restore its sinking reality
The moon, the stars, and the children of the sea all watch with pityfull eyes
For The ship they can no longer see
Forever Lost in the night
In the stary sky
In the rains eye
All on alone
Floating away from thee
Trapped to try and reach the top of a sapphire sea
The ships' livelihood now a mere memory
I think I've realised I'm bad luck. Everyone I meet every person I interact with as soon as I come into their lives. It all seems to turn to shit. Every second everyday I'm tourmented with paranoia that gets worse with people and I've found that that it manifests itself and fucks up other people's life. I feel like everyone would be better off without me, and I honestly wish they'd see that too, I think I have attachment issues because as soon as I befriend or come close with someone, I instantly desire to leave them, somtimes for selfish intent and somtimes for altruism but none the less I always do. I wish I had the guts to cut people of cold because as soon as I enter somones life as nice as I try to be I fuck up everyone around me without trying. I don't think I want to do that again. I dont think anyone deserves that, and I dont think I deserve anyone else. No one seems to be able to see that eventually, I'll just end up dragging people down. I'm a very avid reality thinker I often think of every conceivable reality where maybe things could be different but I know everyones life would be better if I wasnt in it, I'd rather they pain staklingly get support then wallow in their sadness while I coddle them, I've given up on myself and so should they. Im the losing dog that people bet on, and unbeknownst to them, they shouldn't.[Not my art] [Oc writing read desc for context]
My TikTok is not what you would expect, I’m trying to mostly post funny cat videos or animations if I can. So this video shall remain here instead.
am I unstable or it the world unstable? Are my actions extreme and dramatic or appropriate to the ever deteriorating state of society?? Does anyone know because I sure don’t
I don't rlly understand why I don't fit in with anyone :/ everyone just becomes boring, or is mean to me, or treats me in a way I don't want. I try to keep an open mind about my friends/people, but I want friends that are decent people. I want to surround myself with good people, because they would be good, and maybe I'd figure out the correct way to live and act around people, but everyone's who's bad has found there way to me ╯︿╰
ok what happened when i was sleeping?
I pulled all night shit and fell asleep at like 3-4pm, and woke at 7pm
i think im feeling it now
jst like u do
There is a headcanon that Husk owns/runs "The Lucky Cat" hotel so may I request a tired Husk working two jobs and just being done with life?
Are these close enough?
@saschagemruler
I needed a warmup to get back to drawing Hazbin after suffering from school and a near dislocated arm...
