i’m not awful and i love myself

Working in a new merch design for the first time like all year maybe? been wanting to but nothing came about that I enjoyed or thought was worthwhile.

been streaming again, having fun! feeling okay.

that’s a bit strange to say.

my therapist was pressing me about what it is exactly that i do to make me feel so vile when it comes to my interpersonal relationships, couldn’t really name anything super duper pertinent. outside of some instances where ive had to lie to cover up more complex truths(and i truly do torment myself over this), my usual response to people is compassion.

so perhaps it’s unfair to describe myself as a spider who lures in flies with all sorts of promises.

at one point i said, “i think i have a huge ego but zero self esteem” its true. i feel really really really horribly about myself and perhaps that’s unfair.

that same old question comes up again then however:

“if i’m not awful, then why all the bad stuff”?

if i don’t deserve it then it’s worse that it was the way it was.

someone on tiktok left a comment saying “you seem like an inherently kind soul that had a rough start”

is it mastubatory to say that feels true ?

i was recalling yet another memory.

this old lady i used to hang out with was at our apartment, just hanging out, i was reading, my mom was with us too.

Cecile (the old lady) was amazed that i could read multiple books at once, she thought is was so impressive! She asked me how I do it, and i explained that i could just sort of split my brain into parts and store different information.

immediately and with such vitriol, (i can see her face scrunched up right now, she has such beautiful dark, dark skin, and her sharp nose all coming to a point)

“THEN THAT MEANS YOU ARE SICK IN THE HEAD!”

I think she just misunderstood what I meant. I was too young to know the words “Partitioning”, “compartmentalization”, etc.

Cecile caught on though, and tried to clarify to my mom, but she wasn’t having it, repeating her line about me being sick in the head.

little did she know huh?

the memory was prompted last night as i clocked into work. i don’t know why i was thinking it but i was, that out of all the people in the whole world, your mom should be your biggest proponent? supporter? fan? something like that.

i don’t think anyone i’ve ever met in my whole life has even come close to being as horrible to me as my mom could be and often was. My dad was mostly absent and somehow that’s better than my mom, an omnipresent threat of a storm.

i wish less of these posts were about her but the holidays are kicking my ass about it, (sorry!)

i think a lot about what kind of person people will imagine me to be once im dead and they’re reading these entries. hopefully not any time soon because i want to go see a lot more cool places, but eventually.

i was thinking sometime earlier that i think people would generally have nice things to say about me. i think i have really pleasant interactions with most people i encounter.

i’m not a piece of shit, even though i can act like one sometimes, deep down im a good kid right?

i know i wasn’t the easiest son to have and i caused a lot of trouble out of sheer stupidity and boyhood mischief but

she’s my mom.

She told me once that i was her favorite so

why does my mom hate me?

i’m going to change the text on the new merch

it won’t be about regret why more

it’s gonna say

life is beautiful and you have time