I made a realization about myself today. A realization that's left me disgusted.
I'm acting like my shitty family members.
So! Story time:
I let myself stay up late for once to play mobile games in hopes of avoiding negative thoughts about the past. Went to sleep for a few hours, woke up earlier than I wanted to, and then avoided eating despite being hungry to stay in bed. Said good morning to my apartment, looked up why people are hungry but have no appetite, then more mobile gaming, finally got up to eat a couple of nut bars...
And then I saw the next episode of Murder Drones was posted.
For about 20 minutes, I was able to stop feeling sorry for myself and just enjoy being alive and experiencing this beautiful work of art in the form of a 3D scifi-comedy-horror. It was amazing.
I tried to make amazing stuff. I've tried posting a page of a illustrated story on another website every day/every other day... and then I stopped. I've tried video series... and then I stopped. I've tried game development... and then I stopped.
Never permanently. I'd always try again with a new project, or take a break between working on the projects, but I'd eventually stop before even the first chapter or season was done.
Just like my family, I'd give up, take the easy way out, and now I find myself stuck in a pity party. Just like my family, I look for other people or things like cartoons to give me some shot of dopamine and happiness - almost dependent on it. Oh no, audience, don't mistake my understanding for sympathy. Don't make the wrong assumption many others have made of me. This behaviour hurt me and likely others around them and I won't replicate their poison. I'll find a way out by learning to love myself.
Recently another family member, one I'm good with, visited me. We were going to go out and have fun. We did that... after the topic of other family members came up. I believe I brought it up. I understand why I brought it up and he showed understanding, but I was super depressed after the visit and basically did what I did this morning. All filled with regret and swinging between giving myself compassion and critisisms. Sure I texted him an apology, but the idea that it's going to be a thing despairs me.
I'm going to make a commitement towards myself. For at least one hour a day, I'm going to commit to not feeling sorry for myself and the shitty hand I was dealt with. Let myself feel happy just like I did when watching Murder Drones. And then when the hours done and I want to feel all sad again, fine, but for that one hour, I'll do something that makes me feel happy to be alive.
If I can use my phone to time myself, that should help.
So, I finally tried leaving my abusive family members, again. I lost count of how many other attempts. Maybe recording my thoughts in a memoir will help. There's always so much that's left unsaid.
Names and places have been changed. Discretion is advised.
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