December 29, 2021:
Post 01:
At the cleaning station at gym, everybody was using the spray on the left side and the towel dispenser in the front, so I decided to use the one on the right and back. The cardboard sign/flag, fell down there and was at half-mast. I hit my head on it, I didn't bleed, but worried.
Post 02:
Let's say an HIV positive person hit their head and gave themselves a paper cut on that cardboard flag / sign, then I did moments later, is this an HIV contamination risk? I know the likelihood is I just hit my head and no contamination happened. Let It go. I'm fine. Relax now.
Post 03:
I clipped my fingernails because they were getting way too long. I accidentally cut one of two way too short. I'll be going to the gym tomorrow. I'm afraid it's like an open cut and fear contamination. Don't worry. I bit my nails for most of my life and never got contaminated.
Post 04:
I'm not even exaggerating when I say I accidentally clipped this nail way too short, it's almost as bad, if not worse, than when I was biting it. Maybe I should skip the gym tomorrow. Don't give in to the contamination fears. Say in my head, DON'T WORRY AND GO TO THE GYM! Right?
Post 05:
The bottoms of my gym shoes brushed the sleeve of my coat. I used their public restroom, walked on the treadmill, was all throughout a public gym. I wondering if I should wash my coat? Or who cares? I'm worried about contamination fears. Send my worries up to God. Let it go!
Post 06:
I'm so frustrated living in solitary confinement every single day. I want to come unglued.
Realize my mother might be nasty, cold, unloving, but SHE IS NOT HOLDING ME PRISONER. If I want a life I have the ability to do it. The door is wide open.
Don't punch a hole in the wall.
Post 07:
I see college-age women who have a crush on Tom Holland - the kid who plays Spider-Man. He's ok... I guess. But when I was that age, I was so much more badass. I threw my boyish looks in the trash. I had so much potential to rock and roll and proceeded to waste my life. It sucks.
Post 08:
I was watching these attractive women in their early twenties work out at the gym. They're so energetic and loose on the treadmill. They work out with ease. I'm old and my whole body hurts. I struggle to get through my workouts. I wish I was young again.
December 30, 2021:
Post 01:
I know I was doing self-pity, begging people to hang out with me on New Years Eve for when it becomes 2022, crying how I'll be solitary. The more I think about it, it might be better if I socialize with my dad on NEW YEARS DAY for the usual stuff we do.
Post 02:
Sitting in my small apartment with my dad all night long, just to watch the ball drop and say "Happy New Year" at 2022 sounds good on paper... But in many ways, it might be easier if I was alone, then I do the usual activities with my dad on NEW YEARS DAY!
Post 03:
I feel like my mother is holding me as a prisoner in solitary confinement. She never interacts with me. I think she's putting on a facade. Through texts and calls, she suggests things for me to do, like go to NAMI, take a comedy class, reach out to old friends. She doesn't care.
Post 04:
I feel so unloved. I spend every day completely isolated. My life is unimaginable pain and suffering.
I was unloved by my parents and I'm crying out for somebody to truly empathize with me and love me.
Don't seek vengeance on my parents because they put me through hell.
Post 05:
My mother knows exactly what she's doing. She's leaving in here alone, all day long, every single day, and when she does interact with me she screams at me and tells me what a loser I am. You'd be full of rage and want to come unglued too. I need somebody to love me before I snap.
Post 06:
I'm alone in my head daydreaming all day long, unloved, unheard. My parents aren't the solution to my problem. They'll lead to more problems, then the inevitable doom when they die if I'm still dependent.
Living in the real world, getting a life with peers my age is the answer.
Post 07:
I want friends and not to be alone 24/7. I know my mother blames COVID-19, but even before the pandemic, my parents left me in solitary confinement, unheard, unloved. Frankly, I can't take the absence of human interaction anymore. It feels like torture. I'm ready to come unglued.
Post 08:
The steps I'm taking to meet people? I'm taking no steps at all. I'm just wasting day after day. I can cry, do self-pity, say I feel defective, damaged, have extreme self-consciousness, no social skills, panic attacks. I don't know.
Post 09:
When I say I'm "ready to come unglued" - what do I mean by that? I guess I'm at my wit's end. I can't take any more pain. If my mom screams at me, mentally abuses me and I'm passive, it's not impossible I might punch a hole in the wall then a night of horror will begin.
Post 10:
I'm not taking my medication as directed. My psychopharmacologist told me he wouldn't be comfortable with me starting to come off the Latuda, but I decided to start taking it every other day, then a month from now plan to stop it.
Post 11:
As people say: I need to get out of the house. Living in the real world and socialization is the key to recovery. Sitting in solitary confinement is not my mother's fault, it's mine, and is going to only lead to me going insane... AGAIN!
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