I see WordPress’ game. I see the “buy our business or premium plan to have SEO’s (the right to search engine optimization). 8.99 per month or 24.99 per month for the business plan. Come on, man. Fuck you. Fuck your shit. No wonder everything has been so wonky since their updates. Eventually, I’ll pay your 24.99 per month, and everything better run seamlessly and I better have two million views a day and if I don’t I’m suing WordPress and taking the C.E.O’s job.
Yep. I’m doing that. Totally.
I’m posting twice today, I haven’t done that in a long while.
I ate a burrito today.
I know this isn’t Instagram, but I’m talking about my food anyway. It was a big supreme burrito, I don’t think I’ve eaten good for the past few weeks, I don’t really know, and I’m reading “Spider”, and my heart drops in my stomach and my veins go cold and my leg starts bouncing, it bounces like a spider on a web in a rainstorm, and voices are faint, other people’s voices not ones in my head, they sound as if they’re coming through a balloon lodged perfectly within my eardrum, and my blood is racing, tingling even, and I can’t focus on the words in the book because they don’t exist to me any longer.
So I’m here now, listening to my heart thump in my ears over Twisted Insane.
Like I said in the post earlier, I’ve been digging around too much, facing up to too many things, and the panic is rising, rising, rising, and I’m sure I’ll snap at some point soon, I’m assuming.
Like right now, if this person continues fucking arguing with me over what I’m feeling. Don’t you hate people who do that? Who argue over how you’re feeling when you’re the one feeling it? This is why I keep my mouth shut if someone in my household asks “what’s up?” Why should I say anything if I’ll just get an argument?
All I wanted to do was enjoy my burrito. That’s it, that’s all. All I wanted to do was get rest before work tonight.
I should have seen this coming, I couldn’t handle the slightest of noises this morning. My mother opening a package pissed me off beyond control. Tapping, birds chirping, cars passing, everything has just made my nerves jump under my skin. I’ve been shaking for a good three hours now. When I’m not shaking, and I sit still, I still feel like I’m shaking.
You know how when you’re on a really fast roller coaster, like the Gold Striker at Great America, and you step off and you’re kind of giddy and your legs feel weird and you’re bouncing in your skin from the adrenaline? That’s how I feel right now.
It’s shitty when you know your brain is dealing with something big, but you don’t really know what it is yet. When I try and talk to someone about it, I forget what I need to say. I’m sure that’s my brain doing it on purpose. We’re not supposed to share things, we were taught that from the moment I was born with belts, shoes, and insults.
My chair is broken. Fuck, I almost face planted. Well, at least I’m laughing.
Listening to really fast rap when you’re this wired is not helpful. I’m going to stop listening to this now.
I love my kitten. I also wish I had a service dog, one that could nudge me through all this bullshit. They’re good for PTSD and panic attacks, I hear. They can walk into stores with me, e.t.c. So much money and training through.
My brain and I, we’re different people, always have been. Not because “split personalities errmahhgawd”, but because we developed separately.
I also love how I can literally be screaming at everything, slamming things, shaking in my shoes, and no one talks to me. I love it. It helps so much, God, does it help.*