no name
Ad 2:
https://monometric.io/ - Modern SaaS monitoring for your servers, cloud and services
2022-04-30 01:17:11 (UTC)

An Idea

Perhaps, these strikingly negative thoughts about myself and other people come from the same place of hate. That maybe, the same way I don't actually think those things about people, I don't think those things about myself.

Even then, it would be such a disturbing thing for that hate to have anything to do with my mind, hoping they're intrusive doesn't actually confirm it. How could I be anything but my thoughts?
And even then, if I really am more than that, what am I if not my academic efforts which are still declining? I really am nothing, I can't provide anything and my efforts- can you even call them that? Everything I do, which is nothing, is worth nothing. Nothing's still nothing (listen to Copperfield by Roar).
Life's hard when you're soft but you've got our love--

I wish I were worth something but I have no right to wish or want when I don't work for anything, that's a conscious choice and I am now a confirmed waste of life.

ah anyways this thread makes me feel the opposite of the hurt above
Me, an audience, aware of the thoughts, the emotions wrecking the mind
where exactly does this body play a part?

Because 'I' can also see the world not just feel myself. I can feel the world, I can see it, smell it, hear it, touch it and know what I feel. Am I inside? Aware of what this body feels and not actually being the body itself? In which case, I'm trapped, genuinely.
but do 'I' as an awareness feel trapped or is the feeling of displeasure in being with this body just another thing that is actually detached from me? the way I? want to see it is that the negative thoughts are separate from me but this is all too confusing. negative thoughts would be completely separate from me if i truthfully felt nothing for this body at all. that i was nothing. that i am nothing. that this body isn't me. that those thoughts are not me. that none of these emotions are me either.
to believe that i am simply a mammal, a human being, however, would be osmething as well.
Just a man, well a girl, but a human. A biologically female human adolescent in the stage of growth referred to as puberty. Physically able to communicate with other people, the same species. No defects that prevent one from growing or learning. Nothing perceived to be wrong.
If you look at attractiveness- oh wait, you don't, she's a minor.
Unfortunately, the thoughts continue to come and wash over me and they hurt and they hurt and they continue to hurt and i dont know why because there isn't anything wrong with me, not really, not at all really and it just wont stop making a mf cry for no reason because now all i see when i look in the mirror, all i think is, "ugly"

because ive never described myself any other way. i dont believe that im beautiful, im simply not. im just me and before, me wasn't anything, i didnt even thnk of myself, im not sure i even thought at all
just formed opinions thoughtlessly
about disliking what this person did
or about how that hairstyle on me was terrible
or how i liked those teachers
or how that project i did was well done
and now
i just wish i was unable to think again. it was so simple. so much kinder to not be acknowledged at all.

But why would you care about a body that isn't you?
its what im in, its what people see, ITS WHAT PEOPLE THINK I AM all they can see all i can see
Why care about the way people perceive you if it has nothing to do with you?
I don't want to be judged, ostracized.
But you don't even talk to them? Or interact with any of them, like, at all. Never have. So how would you get ostracized?
... point made, self. Point made.

I now declare this an irrational fear.

My legs hurt. growing pains?
it really doesnt feel nice. its like a pain thats not pain. doesnt sting or burn or itch it just feels achey like my knee caps are about to pop off.

its really uncomfortable.
this is uncomfortable.
i dont feel good.
im okay with my true self not actually being anything at all.
no body. no mean thoughts. no suffocating emotions or feelings. no judgement. no fear. no more self criticism. just being. or rather, not being.
thinking about it, in this reality, physically, i am just skin blood bones muscle brain organs. do all these thoughts manifesting as words on a screen come from inside my brain? is there a transparent body inside of my body that contains all of this? im aware that the brain is responsible for memory storing/generating, learning, skills, cognitive abilities and the such, most of which can be shown physically. but what about thoughts. and imagination? the brain may well be behind imagination as well, daydreams and fantasies that you create and live out in your 'mind.' possible. but thoughts? for me i hear it. not with my ears. maybe with my internal ears. i dont see my thoughts, they dont pop up inside my head tangible or able to be seen. It's like me talking inside my head but with the ugly thoughts its the same so maybe thats why it hurts more. I believe they called it an internal monologue. it's not always going, thank everything above. when i watch tv, i can let the brain chemicals take over and let me laugh and smile and pretend that i dont want to rip myself apart everytime i hear my own laugh. It's peace, to be distracted, from problems. Escapism. When it becomes too too too too disturbing, observing my own thoughts and emotions and Feeling It (i hate it so much i hate to feel i wish i didnt because of course it doesn stop at judging a body i didnt ask for, i judge my own thoughts, judge my own feelings, i cant escape myself and its ALWAYS GOING-), I write. I write in my journal and the words tumble out of my mind--because i become mute when it comes to opening my mouth to speak, i cant say what i feel, never articulated, left unsaid, and left full of this disgustingness in my head--and fill up 1, 2, 3 pages with all the things I wish I never thought. And then my mind is empty, for a while, for a time. And everything feels a little lighter, though my mood may look heavy.


It feels pointless, all of this. Feeling. Thinking. Hoping. It all leads to the same thing, no matter, what, who I am. Working, living for a life of stability and happiness that I will never have. Even if I had a person who loved me, despite the odds, I wouldn't feel good. Even if the people around me tried to do all they could, when I deserve nothing i dont even know why im here i bet i was a mistake there was a miscarriage before me after all so maybe that was meant to be me and im not actually supposed to be here at all taking up so much space so much air so many resources so much time and love for nothing nothing an dmore tnhoing. im sorry. i pity my parents.

im so useless cant even complete some fudging homeowkr i want to kill myself for them but i cant i cant