Session 06 - Another visit and another vent. (10/23/2024)
I neglect this place. A lot. I know nobody actually reads it, and maybe that's why. I'd rather suffer in silence than put in the effort to type out a vent to an audience of nobody at all on some secret blog without any means of interaction. I guess I should catch you up on where I've been.
I started working at a furniture store, but I had a serious panic attack and ended up getting fired within two weeks. I went on to get a security license, and my first contract was put on hold. My second contract's days did not work well for me at all, killing my social life and hurting my mental health in a way I still don't feel I've fully recovered from. I'm on a third contract with a second company that I moved over to under the promise of better treatment. Somebody like myself working security feels like a bizarre fucking lie. I am actually working this job, if it even counts as work (it hardly does), but people don't seem to realize that I'm not the sort of person you really want here. I wear this shallow, fake smile and nod along while pretending to remember names. Have a couple regulars on quick-draw, but otherwise just playing along and bluffing being a part of a community that I could never actually be in. I'm some almost-30 burnout who still lives with his parents, and I'm watching over the gates of multi-millionaires (I suspect some are even billionaires) - I'm a socialist protecting capitalists, I'm just trying to make ends meet while stuck at 32 hours.
Last night, when things died down and the point I'd clock out was coming near, I checked my email and found that I was given permission to use a song for a project under the condition that I gave credit - which is absolutely feasible. No big deal at all, I was planning on doing do anyway. So I was ecstatic, I put on the song that I'd just been given permission to use and I basked in the moment, only to be knocked back to reality by a client knocking on the window. This was somebody who'd only recently moved back in, so I drew a blank on his name, and he ended up reminding me of it. I was caught in the fucking act, and now I'm absolutely petrified of losing another fucking job due to my own ignorance... Yet this job, without some additional stimulation, is mentally draining. It deals psychic damage as I'm sitting here fucking idle and feeling my life and potential just. drain. It's so fucking simple and basic that it barely counts as a job, and yet I'm constantly afraid of forgetting a lock or something and getting fired. I doublecheck all of the locks and I'm upset that sometimes the doublechecks actually help. It's so simple that I shouldn't even need to, I should be able to do it down fucking pat easily peasily and yet here I am needing to test locks and take photos of them just to ensure that yes, I did the bare minimum correctly. I feel like a fuckup. This job pays weekly, so while that means I almost always have something in my pocket, I also will always look at my bank and just feel a profound disappointment in how limited I actually am. I guess that's a taste of responsibility. I should be used to it by now, and I know this system can actually help me live better, but I see it as more of a downside than a perk.
Outside of work, I feel like my personal life has gone to hell. I've ended a friendship with somebody I've secretly hated for months due to a series of miscommunications. It came to my attention that I don't really express expression. Maybe that's why I feel drawn to reptiles and so often end up representing myself with them - they don't come off as particularly expressive or emotional, their communication is simply incompatible with us. Some people swear their lizards and turtles love them, but the general populace seems in the air on whether or not they can even feel such things. Do they have the mental capacity? Do I? I've been known to treat even some of the people I love most like strangers, and it upsets my family. I've learned not to get too attached to anybody, and yet I'm shamed for not being attached enough - but on the same coin, I still feel grief when someone leaves my life. Even the toxic relationships are an addictive drug. I miss my abusers like I miss my friends. How do Frank and Kitsu and Ovi have such a similar light in my mind to Christina and Ars? Does Nostalgia make scars sweet, or have I only dug myself deeper? Perhaps I'm somewhere vaguely in-between? My relationships with my family are strained because of the whole bullshit with my brother and my not attending his overseas "wedding" he's doing for this 10-year anniversary that would cost me $2000. I'm already uncomfortable with him - I swear I have memories of him sexually abusing me, but I have no proof and I don't want to fucking admit all of that shit to my family because what if I'm wrong? What if it's nightmares? I already told them about the piss video incident, but since that computer is long gone, I don't even have proof that ever happened. My mother blames one of my father's friends, and maybe it was. She says that she never trusted my father's friends, so it's possible they might have done something to me, but that's not exactly what I remember. It's all a fucking blur, I don't know what I remember, but I thought it was Dan. Maybe it wasn't, but that was who I thought it was for years.
Or maybe I should just shut the fuck up and move along like a good little retard. Whatever.
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