July 22, 2024

I'm sure many have been in this situation, of fully spreading your wings and "growing up," living on your own, having a life of your own, and then you have to spend a prolonged period at your childhood home.
And I'm sure there's differing feelings one might feel towards this, but for me, it's wanting to bang your goddamned head into the wall until your skull goes soft.

I don't lack a plan, I don't feel the "inadequacy" of not having a plan, I just want the plan to happen now, because being stuck here is like being in purgatory. I grew up in a very suburban, Texas city outside of Austin and it's strange, because growing up, I didn't hate it. And when I moved to a suburb just north of Dallas for college, I didn't think they were all that different. But after being there a while, and getting this easy access to good places to eat, fun places to go, my friends, my stuff, my own fucking life, and then having to go back to this town with very little people my age, very little to do without driving an hour into Austin, having no friends still here, having most of my stuff still in boxes, waiting... I'm almost being driven insane. And it doesn't help that the same, nostalgic warp has happened to my dad, the one family member I have here. My dad raised me. We have always gotten along, people have always said I'm so much like him... but I've grown into my own person being gone, too. A, I'll say it, better and healthier person. I've shed a lot of the baggage my dad had that I inherited, and now it feels like he's dead set on putting it back. Never enough, unless it's my weight, than it's more than enough. He doesn't do it consciously, I know he wants to make sure I'm "prepared," and that he fears me becoming "like him," AKA, fat. He's given up on himself more and more in recent years and it feels like the more he gives up on himself, the more he puts pressure on me to always succeed, always be on top of everything. But it's like he's changed and stayed the same, all at once.
Just like this fucking town.
Just shrink me down to the size you need me, I'm sure it'll work wonders.
I am not You. I'm not who You see in Me.

Right now I'm only waiting for an official offer letter from a job I applied for. Once I get that, I can apply for an apartment (though I fear that it's already been too long to get the units I was looking at for the prices I wanted...) and I can finally have my own space again, and will start work and have a routine and a life again. But it's taking forever. I'm praying I hear from them this week. I just want to know. I want to be able to do anything, not just sit here, helpless. I've been eager to take my mind off of it but the modded mc server I've been playing with my bf and friends is down and the guy running it isn't online, and left to my own devices I just start to spiral into anxiety... and I missed writing here, it is cathartic. I've just been trying so hard. And it feels so isolating. Even when occasionally I'm told it's been hard for me, that I have done a good job, I struggle to feel like I'm not alone. I feel somehow less loved when I am anxious, despsite the fact nothing has changed. I guess it is just one set of anxieties setting off the rest. I just want it to be over; to feel more warmth and fondness towards my dad again, to be somewhere I want to be, with my people. To have things I'm working on, working towards. It feels like starving. And again, all my stuff is still in boxes anticipating one more move, so my hobbies, my beads, my bass, my jewlerymaking, it's not fully accesible. It feels worthless to do a new thing, set a new schedule, when it could be out the window as soon as tomorrow. I'm helpless.

I still feel like garbage, but at this point I'm only going to write myself in circles. Please, just let it end soon.

xo,
chasey.