happy boys and happy girls

I am happy!

THIS IS BIG.

list:


- buying $50 worth of fresh fruits and vegetables yesterday and eating them
- starting to arrange Walkin' by Thundercat
- starting internship
- Heather inviting me to Roxane FUCKING Gay!
- AGO this morning; membership pass!
- 4 am hike tomorrow morning
- collaging with Laura
- LAURA and her magic??!
- park times with lovely CAMH girls
- Music day with Kyle!
- learning SEASONS CHANGE last night and drinking Wellington Brewery beer and feeling great

I am happy.

I am allowed to be happy.

Desktop Diary // Radical Acceptance edition

RADICAL ACCEPTANCE

it's ok to have irrevocably lost touch w your iPod Classic

it's ok to collect whimsical 1970s cookbooks and picture books for future use in fantastical collages you know you will never make when you can't stumble out of your room. 

                 it's okay to have what you internally deem an inadequate vestibular sense of history.

it's okay to like things a lot and not know why and not want to learn more about them.

it's okay to treat yourself like a child.

it's okay to put on a brave face.

it's okay to find relief only in the company and under the unwavering supervision of others.

it's okay to be unproductive. it's okay to feel overwhelmingly lightheaded and depressed every morning and night without any external or chemical cause.

it's okay for your every concrete action (that isn't just you imagining partaking in the action in the near, near future) to be the compromised product of competing involuntary internal negotiations. it's okay to only actually do 1/8 of what you believe you're capable of. it's okay to live exclusively inside your own skull, the knowledge of this providing no sanctuary. it's okay because you are somehow okay and doing okay.

it's okay to feel important without having earned it. it's okay to feel unimportant when you deserve to feel important. it's okay to think that anyone 'deserves' anything; that we live in a karmically policed cosmos. it's okay to believe in an ever-receding future in which you will suddenly be counted among a 'deserving' and confident elite.

it's okay to let seconds and days and years blow away. it's okay to feel isolated by neurosis and self-hatred and the inability to be 'fixed'. 

******DISCLAIMER: I DON'T EARNESTLY BELIEVE THE ABOVE IS A HEALTHY EXAMPLE OF THE PRACTICE IN DBT KNOWN AS RADICAL ACCEPTANCE. IT'S A GREAT SKILL (WHEN USED MINDFULLY) BUT I'M NOT READY TO HARNESS IT. MY HEART IS TOO FRACTURED, MY SELF-ESTEEM TOO WOUNDED, MY ANXIETIES TOO DEEPLY EMBEDDED IN THE SYNTAX OF MY THOUGHTS (WHICH IF AREN'T MY VERY ESSENCE, WHAT IS?)*****

Vancouver

kate.

new lows

EVERY LOW IS THE LOWEST

so angry

but too tired to move

always always tired

modafinil

adderall

they're not helping

at all

make me feel washed out with chlorine

make me feel groggier than i already did

the sore adderall afterglow getting sooner and sooner

it's not chemical

SURPRISE,

it's YOU!

SURPRISE,

drugs dont work if you dont

they dont work if you sleep for 12h 

they dont work if you go to bed at 3 or 4 every night for no reason

silently postponing sleep via hours of swiping on tinder

absorbing no music or literature or news or trivia 

becoming nothing 

getting further and further from former benchmarks of intelligence, creativity, achievement

where is my chutzpah 

oh wait, i've been on this spectrum for years

been applauded w high grades for my chronic procrastination problem since i was, like, 8. 

maybe younger

it's just so much worse now

i am all out of hope. i am all out of muscle memory. 

now i can request an extension due to my 'disability' 2 hours before a paper is due

and it's granted just like that

it makes me feel like shit because i wrote off the previous 2 days to 'work' on said assignment 

squandering them doing literally nothing. 

not watching netflix, not hanging out on youtube.

no. 

indulgently talking with my ex about existential nonsense and stupid crap we'll never do, perhaps. 

refreshing my email, fb, instagram for hours, yes. 

but DOING anything? no

i've lost that function

i've lost all control of myself

i feel so so so so so so far away from myself

i have no mastery of myself

no grip on my time

i can't think of any reason why my time would have value

no impetus to do anything but dawdle when not directly in front of others

SHOULD I SPEND EVERY WAKING MOMENT OF MY TIME WITH OTHERS

and is this an important crossroads at which i make the 'right' decision? or is this where i drop out of sight and don't know where i went?

 

songwringing

original title: Strictly Professional

This is ripped from a 2012 email i sent to my supervisor turned first luv turned intermittent friend in which, after a sad experience involving drunken cuddles and timid not-so-heavy petting under the cover of the frigid rural night, i made it clear via email that i wanted our relationship to remain 'strictly professional from now on'. he never responded to that stilted / stunted message and i'm thinking now it was maybe bc i sent it to his work email which might have been visible to future pplz holding his position? oops. i'm sorry if i got you in trouble, sweet baws of yesteryear. but also you stole two years of my life, pumping them with desperate drafts to 'no recipient' at all on my lg slidephone and hypnogogic sensations that were not so welcome to a suffering 17 yr old me, so im not sorry at all. 

Influences: literally aretha franklin's 'daydreaming' and less literally syreeta's 'black maybe'

i wanted to use their drunken, sweet motown musings as a nice soup stock for an equally unmoored, washed-ashore ditty. 

Lyrics:

ch: Day drinkin and i'm thinking of you
one notification and i'll spew
day drinking n my brain is soaked thru
dont hold me then say i can't kiss you

this chorus describes the central theme of the song / the central experience that informs it. right now, i'm floating in a weird slimy extracellular fluid in which all i know is that i am desperate as fuck for affection and intimacy. this state led me to a place where i got so day-drunk that i found myself semi-blacked out in a bunkbed attached to my ex who gingerly avoided my lips but otherwise participated in the exchange of something like physical love. when he slinked away, i asked him frankly to kiss me from the bunkbed from which i could not pry my wilted person, to which he just woefully grimaced, leaving me w overwhelming feelings of shame and betrayal. i felt as if i was being parented, or looked out for; or as if he thought i was being creepily needy by wanting to be kissed, when i'm p sure he was the one who instated the cuddling configuration in the first place. to make me feel overly attached or like i was deluded re: our relationship made me angry and still does. i feel kind of sick when i think about being rejected, sexually, here but more importantly, emotionally. i couldve really used a friend in that moment instead of having him fearfully pull the plug and leave me to sink into my own filth. 

v1: nihilism saw me force a connection
nihilism saw you to my bed
i'm too fucking good for this knot in my chest
i'm too fucking good for this psychic bedrest

this describes a sad sexual encounter a week before the one previously described in which i unsuccessfully tried to use a douchebag's physical body to fill a void. it was all wrong and it was all bad and the fact that i slept w a disgusting homophobe that i feel ashamed even telling my good friends about is not smthn i'm living down to myself anytime soon. i shouldve gone home and eaten ice cream instead of gotten drunk enough to think this could lead to anything other than self-loathing and nausea for dayzzz. 

v2: an omnipresent material dream
a gaunt angel at my sickbed
your careful hold my stillborn fix
a bait and switch; my stomach lead

this describes my beautiful and cruel ex visiting me as a celestial and sadistic apparition. this weird second intimacy was as painful as it was with my first love (for which the song is named). both experiences were an unexpected but conditional drunken recoupling where familiar intimacy was reinstated but also carefully policed and thus feeding into a painful power imbalance at which the shame was unfairly allocated to me. 

drafts//stutters

Hey I just want you to know that I did not intend to cuddle with you yesterday and don’t know what circumstances led to that happening. Like I just remember suddenly being in a bunkbed and then you leaving and being kind of repulsed 

also, idk if you care but a million years ago I hooked up w Baknel again after a while apart and it was similarly sad because although we were touching each other, he wouldn’t kiss me and it made me feel similarly awful and alone and FYI: don’t solicit affection from someone but then make them feel foolish for wanting    . It’s a huge fucking power trip. I

I feel really shitty about yesterday. I don’t remember how we started cuddling and I didn’t think I was responsible, so you acting repulsed by me when you clearly were comfortable enough holding me kind of hurt and seemed like a power trip (whether intentional or not) on your part. Anyway, I want to drive the point home that regardless of what happens or doesn’t, it is crystal clear to me that we are not going to be romantically involved in any way and no one here is confused about that!

 You don’t need to be cautious because I am not deluded or hung up on you and no one is confused about what is what. I was just very drunk. Anyway, yeah, just putting it out there that regardless of your intention, I feel 

anyway, if you did indeed consent to touching me, I just want to let you know that it’s kind of a 

Hey, so I feel kind of sick about yesterday. I could go into the nuances of why it hurt me (and, actually, they don’t have to do with me still wanting to be with you or anything in that vein) but I guess I’ll just say that, although I don’t strictly remember how we ended up cuddling  am not fully sure how it happened, and that it’s not a big deal and wouldn’t be if it happened again. 

Yo just want to let you know that, although I briefly enjoyed it, I didn’t intend to cuddle you yesterday (and don’t remember exactly how it happened seeing as I was SO. DRUNK.) and it hurt when you acted repulsed towards me/ran away instead of wanting to talk to me or comfort me when I was feeling super fucking horrible both physically and spiritually. Anyway, ofc it’s not a big deal, but I just wanted to let you know that that hurt me and also that there’s no reason to EVER act afraid of me because I do not harbour any latent dreams of pursuing anything romantic w you (and acting as if I do is a power trip ya don’t need to take). Okay? okay. 

Feb 18th, 2017

I’ve come full circle 

My throat feels like I’ve smoked, bacterial tendrils just hinting at exposure, not detectable except by painful proxy

Food is my enemy

I can’t fucking eat

Exactly like, when depressed; when anxious. 

i want to; it would be good for me; it would make me strong; it would be the first step in such a fucking LONG journey of repersonalization and getting my ears and head and neck and heart back 

Of stripping away everything that clogs me, makes me unable to read a sentence on a page without already failing to encode 

Why am I such a brute

WHY AM I SUCH A BRUTE!???

There is so much I want to see and do and be! But I can’t move. Or I don’t. I’m afraid to know what I can’t and what I don’t do bc maybe I really am dull. Maybe I have an aptitude for nothing. Maybe I taste nothing. Maybe my sphere of influence is small and my senses are as dampened as they feel

I am ill right now, yes

But the physical symptoms: an adamant stomach of lead that recoils at the sight of solid food; at the thought of —god forbid— a meal, is a PROUD stomach. It is an anorexic stomach. It is a stomach that restricts for a living; that sustains its own shrinkage, in the way that fat cells and goopy skin and stretch marks could only dream of. 

I am sick. I am so sick. 

I NEED to be sick. This cannot be who I’ve grown up into. 

I used to be a girl who, albeit hyperactive and distracted, COULD read; COULD impress, COULD ace theory exams and math exams and chemistry exams and ANY FUCKING EXAM YOU COULD NAME, and who could balance her life and remember what she did the previous hour

But now i am a girl who self-sabotages even when she doesn’t self-sabotage. do you know what I mean?

There is nothing to sabotage!

I don’t DO anything!

My inner life is a monster. I am sick. I am always always always tired. I don’t know why I’m in school. I don’t know why I’m alive.