The Good Place

I think that’s changing too about me.

Lately I’ve been getting marketing calls with recorded messages.

And it’s absurd to even wish I didn’t need to have a phone.

I wanna live there fully and permanently. But I have to keep reaching out for work.

A few years ago, I was with a few friends when we saw a cat with similar color pattern as the cutie here. I said look how beautiful it is, and they looked at me weird. I had forgotten about that.

I’ve been going to therapy. I think I’m about to stop though. It’s not really doing much good because I’m too stuck in my head. I don’t like the options I seem to have in life.

I think I’m close to submitting to an “it’s too late to do anything meaningful” conclusion.

Therapy helped me put things in a more logical perspective, but it’s not going to help with some “fundamental” things that are necessary to fix things even within logic, let alone what I now know that I ideally want.

I can’t express how much I appreciate you taking the time to write that.

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It is burnout (too). I’ve been experiencing a lot of instability which got worse in the past few years. Trauma as well.

One or two things that could have gone okay and make most things bearable, if not fixable, took terrible turns and kinda broke me mentally.

I blame only myself though, ultimately, because a little foresight and mental strength could have spared me a lot of trouble.

Yes. I do have to go back to reading stoics. There was a time I myself recommended it to others. Thank you. I wish it was the imposter syndrome.

Some things are supposed to fall on me. I should be able to handle some things as a person. Yet I feel like a burden on everyone and everything. This is not about my job. Everything else is shit. And I’m worried it’s affecting my job a little.

Actually it’s the best environment I’ve been in. It’s not directly about work. I am my problem.

I think I have this kind of job, and yet I want everything to just stop. Everything. And I am not autistic nor have ADHD. And I can’t even ask anyone for help, because I am not supposed to. I did try asking for help. I was either ignored or was told that I shouldn’t ask for help.

“Ironically,” it’s a picture I used as a profile pic on my real life accounts.

I shouldn’t even be around.

I don’t know which is worse: that there is no sense of self anymore, or that I have to put on masks to pretend there is.

It is, but still.

I think I’m finally moving to the mysterious side. I am not mysterious though. I just am.

Hang in there. Takes time.

And take care.

Hope you’ll feel better

Rookie numbers

I’m not. And I’m not sure if I should be. And I can’t go there anyway. I sometimes wish I could though.