Alone is a Crowd

Content Warning - Venting, talking about suicide and poor mental health.

Man, I really went ahead and made a single journal post and proceeded to never post again. It's now almost been a full month ever since I took my Twitter hiatus and yeah I guess I feel "okay" (Picture me doing quotes with my fingers when I say that), but this time feels different I guess.

I usually do these hiatus..es? and I'm always eager to come back to Twitter, but this time around I don't feel that urge anymore. Maybe it's because Tumblr has been enough for me when it comes to getting a response to my art, and thankfully more and more friends from Twitter are finally deciding to give Tumblr a chance, so I've less often dealt with thoughts of wanting to post to Twitter because so-and-so friend who doesn't have a Tumblr won't see it.

And spending this last month fixating on this website has also been cathartic, although I do wish I had more friends that were as into making weird personal websites as I am. Sometimes I'll look at my friends and it's like I have this image in my head of what a personal website with their likes and aesthetics would look like. A few have expressed interest in the concept, but I still feel very alone in this endeavour. I'd love to help one of them someday, but I fear coming across as pushy or pressuring anyone into doing anything they'd rather do by themselves.

I don't share my posts or updates I make to this place because I guess on some level I'm afraid? Afraid that I'll be seen as bragging, or in some way making people feel bad because they're not doing it too. This would make me feel like I'm sounding full of myself, but it's something I've experienced all my life whenever attempting to share things I'm enthusiastic about.

I'm still learning to ignore the voice that tells me not to post my art because it will make others feel bad. On one hand, yeah I'm aware that other people's thoughts are something that's out of my control, and whatever they decide to do with the feelings they get out of seeing me share something of my own is not mine to control or attempt to stop. No matter how much certain shitty people in my life have actively tried to make me feel that way.

But darn it, I just don't want to hurt people when I get excited about my work, you know? :( No matter how much "not my fault" people say it is, it does sting and make me dislike my work when I feel like all it does is make people sad or avoid me.

It feels like such a specific feeling, I don't know who can relate to it. I guess returning to the topic of Twitter, that platform did heavily amplify those feelings since it was one of the main places where situations like that did end up taking place.

I don't know. This post was going to be me ranting about being sick and still struggling to get a job because I never get any response and it genuinely makes me want to blow my brains out. Every day feels like a struggle to find just one thing, one small thing, one sliver of hope, an excuse for me to stick around the world a while longer.

I'm no longer the suicidal teen I used to be those years ago, now I guess I just feel jaded about existence. Like I'm not actively wanting to end it, but y'know, if a car ran me over and killed me in one hit? I likely wouldn't be opposed to it, you know what I mean? Like, I don't want to die, but if it did happen, I don't think I would be too upset about it? Meh.

Either way, I'm 25 and I feel like I don't have a purpose. I like drawing, I like creating, and I like making a goofy personal website because I guess on some level, I see value in small things like this? I often imagine this place as a time capsule, like the aforementioned car that ran me over and killed me in one hit did take place, that this would exist so people could still learn about me? Because as a human I guess I'm cursed to believe that I need to be known for my life to have had meaning. That I need to leave something behind to show that the 25 years I've spent being useless in this world meant something.

To me, it has a meaning, it makes me happy, it makes me feel like I'm working towards something, but in a greater scale, everyone says I'm wasting my time, or they look down on me as if mourning this "great potential" I keep hearing so much about.

I mean... My work has to mean something, even on a small scale, even in the few interactions with people telling me that my work has inspired them, it should mean something. The universe can't be THAT indifferent!

Welp, when I started writing this, I was thinking about making the page and posting to Tumblr, but this feels just a little too gloomy for that. Because of being out of Twitter, I haven't had access to my private vent account, where long drawn-out posts like this would come on a daily basis. I guess distance from that has helped even if I have less of a place to dump my thoughts on other than a diary app I redownloaded recently. I've been writing for a month now as well so I guess that's something? I don't know what it is, just... something.

I guess it feels awkward to be out of Twitter but still log in to make some existential thread that no one will see, or something that will get messages like "I don't know what to respond to this, but I hope you're okay" from friends, which I appreciate regardless, but I do feel like I alienate people.

Is this anything?

(Keeping with a tradition of my Private Twitter where I will make really dramatic tweets and follow them up with an image that has absolutely nothing to do with that was posted)