well, fuck.

(Disclaimor: i ran this by chatGPT for spelling, puncuation, and gramatical errors, and to make it so its paced better. And that even though i reread it, and know it changed something and i didnt like it, but dont remember what it was and cant find it again to fix it, i still posted this.)

I worry I sound kinda bonkers sometimes.

It’s not totally inconceivable that maybe I just am a little off my rockers, but who cares?

I’ll tell you who cares: me! I care! Billie cares!

I saw a post on Snapchat Spotlight the other day that said “that one person who always follows your friend group around,” and the sound was basically screaming “stop!”

There was a comment that said “fr, she thinks people like her,” and another that said “he talks to himself.” (I’m paraphrasing.)

Here’s the thing—I was probably that person.

I used to follow my best friend around like a lost puppy. She always had other friends, and I was just tagging along in the back being quiet. And I felt stupid as fuck.

When I get anxious, I tend to talk to myself. I would kinda whisper and mumble things like,

“It’s okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

And, “Ooookay… nope, don’t say that.”

Because I thought a lot of things that weren’t even normal to me, and definitely not things to say out loud.

So anyway, I’m realizing how fucking nuts I probably seemed.

How my friend’s friends probably thought I was weird, or obnoxious, or thought I thought they liked me.

I still talk to myself.

Like—I have full-on conversations sometimes between out-loud me and inside me.

Sometimes it’s because I think it’s funny.

Sometimes it helps me sort through my feelings.

Or maybe I’ll just have a thought and then an opposing thought and they can’t both be in my head or that gets confusing. (I’m joking, I couldn’t think of a third reason.)

But either way... it happens a lot.

I also have a lot of half-baked thoughts that come out in rambly ways that, if you interpret them wrong, make me sound like a flat earther.

Not that I sound like I think the earth is flat (unless I’m on one of my “distrust of human science” spiels, cause I use that as an example a lot), but I sound like I’d have similar logic to them, or the same credibility.

And I’m maybe questioning my friendship with that person.

But then again, I do that like once a week. I always realize I was probably reading into things too much, so I’m sure this is no different.

Also, this isn’t relevant to the topic, but I mentioned watching Snapchat Spotlights earlier, and I don’t care if it’s unpopular—TikTok is fucking stupid.

But mostly in the sense that it annoys me, and I’m kinda immature, so… TikTok is a poopyhead.

That’s my final verdict.

I hate one-on-one conversations with certain people.

I love my other friend so much it actually concerns me.

For one thing, that friend is so nice, and so cool, and such a fucking dork, and I love being around her, so I avoid her.

I’m an unreliable little shit, so I’m constantly letting her down, and she just don’t deserve that.

Shes also a little annoying sometimes, but that’s okay.

I’ve got my own shit going on.

I’m just kinda happy she shows me the annoying parts.

But also… like… I just miss her whenever I think about her…

And like, I smile at her texts, but I can’t tell if my smiles are forced or not.

I don’t know if I’m making sense.

Feelings are just confusing.

Therapy is dumb.

I like my therapist, but I hate the process, and I hate talking about my feelings, and I hate having to be honest because honesty doesn’t make me look great.

And I hate having to leave my house for an hour and a half on those days after i do every day life stuff and im already tired, because im always tired, and I just wanna not… life.

But what am I gonna do? Not go?

I’m going because I’ve been told I need therapy.

And I thought it might help—at least with identifying my emotions.

But it’s like:

“Hey, this happened, and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

And she’s like:

“Well, how did that make you feel?”

And like… I guess I thought it would be more advice. Or at least honesty.

But more often it’s just constant validation.

Like if I said, “I ran someone over with a bus, and I realize that was wrong of me, but they were annoying me,”

She’d be like,

“Well… sometimes we blow up at people. It happens. It doesn’t make you overdramatic. What would you have done differently?”

Me: “Probably I wouldn’t have hit them and their dog with that bus.”

Therapist: “Well, at least you know what you did wrong. You can do better in the future.”

Sometimes I just want someone to tell me if my response to something was actually reasonable or not.

But that’s not really what I get.

But at least she helped me get medicated for depression I’m still not sure I even have, or if I’ve just tied an emotion to my identity or something.

I don’t like to cry, but I cry a lot when I talk to my mom.

Usually because it turns into an argument or confrontation.

Which is also something that makes me feel a little crazy, cause I feel like I have this reputation for being super argumentative—even though I try really hard not to be.

I know I get it from when I was a kid and would freak the fuck out about really little things.

And I realize I was sorta nuts—but I don’t still do that!

It just bothers me when people say things like “you don’t do that as much anymore.”

Even though I literally don’t do it at all.

And haven’t since I was like eleven.

And yes, I know eleven is way too old to still be having temper tantrums.

But I dunno—I feel like even when I stay calm and something small sets someone else off and they start yelling at me or crying, it’s still my fault for making them cry.

I know it’s possible to be wrong in both scenarios, but I don’t feel like I was wrong in the second unless I was wrong in the first.

And I definitely was in the first.

Also, if you’re gonna yell at me or dismiss my feelings, or treat me like I’m a fucking child, or criticize everything I do from the way I talk to the friends I keep—and then tell me I’m being overly critical when I ask you to just listen when i talk sometimes...

Yeah, I’m gonna point it out, or at least get frustrated at you.

And if you get upset at me for it, that’s kinda your fault, no?

Plus, when people are assholes to me and I just let it happen, suddenly I’m not respecting myself.

And not only have the assholes themselves told me that—that’s also not the kind of behavior I want to encourage from other people.

See, and that’s kinda why I feel like all my marbles have been misplaced.

Because it seems like everyone agrees I’m the problem.

But I’m still pretty sure I’m not.

And like, if I’m wrong, people don’t always tell me why.

I feel like I’m just supposed to know somehow?

Nobody ever wants to tell you what you did. They just want to tell you it was bad, which isn’t helpful.

What, do you want me to change my whole fucking personality?

Turn myself inside out?

Just give me something…

I don’t feel like I can win.

But this is barely a diary.

Only in the emotional sense, it’s a public diary with a comment section.

But physically it’s supposed to be a blog, and I don’t actually know if you’re supposed to put something specific on blogs…

Like, I post about how I’m the victim and everyone sucks, but should I be posting about my workout routine? Or my recipes?

Or like, just one specific subject?

Or can I just post about every individual person, place, and thing that’s wronged me?

I don’t know.

I never know.

Oh well.

Later guys,

–Bill