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I thought this worry made me a better person

28 March 2024 “I never used to be this insecure It’s strange  I don’t recognise my new self I thought this worry made me a better person” -me “I thought all this worry made me a better person.” Trapped in the illusion that if I thought about everything enough I could win at life, I would be the kindest, most successful, mature and ration person I could be. for me being irrational was worse than death. it’s ironic isn’t it? A teenage girl ridden in shame, misplaced desire and overwhelming hate for myself, my past and all actions I had partaken in. The type of shame that feels like a splitting headache that’s been around for years. The type of shame that makes you throw up on nature walks because the silence of the trees becomes a theatre projecting all the terrible things you have done and said. Shame was my water, shame was the ground beneath my feet, shame was the sun wrapping around me and leaving my body tingling on a hot day. Shame was inescapable and replaced all my pleasures with pain. With many anxieties and obsessions i have had previously there was irrational elements to them, my great fears were bazaar and shockingly niche. This new obsession was a wolf wrapped up in a warm fuzzy logical cloak That loved to remind me of all the horrific parts of myself. But how could it stop following me this haunting picture of myself and the people I had hurt, how could I fix any of it. how could I even face it. With this dilema of having a guilty conscious finally explode on me like a shaken bottle of Pepsi waiting for its escape. I choose there is nothing but to fix it. fix it all. But how? i Decide I must think about it. all the time. This would form a punishment to myself that meant i was doing a service to those I’d hurt. Secondly whenever I have a good time or a moment of joy, I would remind myself that this was unfair and I must return to my shame because I was still in guilt jail and owed it to those I had hurt. thirdly I would from now on do everything perfectly and not hurt a single soul ever again, they could hurt me all they wanted. but I could not hurt them. I couldn’t possibly bare adding any extra shame on to the debt I was in to the gods or karma or just myself. This ofc was all stupid Very stupid After turmoil and finding myself completely unable to form proper connections because of my obsession with being perfect all the time for absolutely everyone ever I was broken. More broken than before. how have I done it wrong again. This punishment hasn’t changed anything! Not the people I hurt! Not myself! And I’m hurting more people. I wanted to die. this part funny or not. Dramatic or not. It was true. I didn’t want to be alive. I didn’t want to think. all I wanted was to do it all again. Be a better me a kinder me one who didn’t yell at her mother, go To school drunk, sleep with the wrong people, be a terrible friend to someone to trusted me dearly, talk shit and gossip about people I love. I wish I haven’t done any of it. I wish I had never had sex. I wish I didnt know what sex was. I wish I never drank. I wish I never let anyone kiss me. I wish I never was a teenager. I wish I didn’t need to learn how to be good. I wish I wish I wish I just knew. Just knew how to be good. Like those people who come out the womb shining and loving with fountains of patience and love. It wasn’t me. I came out kicking and screaming and selfish and I stayed that way for years. but I couldnt change this I couldnt wish it all away or run away or kill myself. So I had to accept I had to apologise And I had to love And stop fucking thinking for one second. I’m ending this terribly for the sole Reason my figures hurt but long story short I confronted my shame with love and compassion. And I’m aloud to fuck up we all are and I no longer want to die. This isn’t simple and I’m making it sound I have to practice everyday for this. But I’m happy and I love my life and myself and I’m so proud of me. And I did this in less than a year. SO FUCK OCD and yay me

@notalex

Dec 30, 2024

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Moving on

I've deleted Instagram. I'm stretching my ears. I'm making video diaries again. I write for myself only. I'm secluded, quiet, I'm grieving, I'm burying myself and I am being buried and I am attending the funeral. I'm alone in all of this. It wasn't a new year resolution that led me here. It wasn't therapy or a fortune cookie or anything romantic. But I realize your story only matters if you plan on telling it to someone. Maybe as a response to something, "what the fuck is wrong with you?", maybe an intimate secret, maybe a drunken ramble. I'm done telling stories. I've been alone for forever. Occasionally someone will drift too close, and I think maybe this time, maybe, maybe... And I'm left scarred, or left quietly, but always left. Of course I have things to reflect on and things to take accountability for. But I'll be damned if I present my isolation as pure, as if I am a martyr. No, this is not for everyone's safety or my own digestibility. I am bringing the chisel down in sharp downward motions against myself again and again and and I will carve something new from this stone tomb. I'll never be David. I'll never be Michelangelo. But I can be something more than stone. I am moving on. I don't know to where or to what end. It doesn't matter. Very little does, now. Maybe it always had such little meaning and I was just too close, to desperate, to see that. I wanted so badly to mean something. Even if it was just to be grieved. No one will miss me, now, as it's always been. But I also don't miss me. Moving on.

@winston

Mar 26, 2025

1

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the world is over

i forgot my headphones at home. i was about to either 1) pump black country new road 2) watch brooklyn 99. i miss being passionate about things, not being able to sleep, eat, speak, or fathom anything beyond the apple of my eye and the fruit of my thoughts. i miss waking up with one thing in mind, how i would explore it that day, and how i would explore it the next it’s been people it’s been sewing guitar driving religion philosophy photography writing filming blogging i think, regardless of any tik tok data explosion with the intention of ripping out each of my brain cells to keep me submissive and docile because of a wrecked attention span, i’m not a girl of her commitments- i get bored. and i am bored. i feel this lack of passion so deeply in my body, its been a catalyst for the recent crashouts ive had ( and there’s been plenty) i don’t know how to stay, and work hard, and allow myself to grow to what i want to be right in this instance. not to shine my own shoes, but i’m not super used to being bad at things. i’ve always always always coasted, and now that im trying to be a gaf (give a fuck) filled girl, ive realized, sucking at something hurts a lot more when you’ve put in the work to be good at it. if it wasn’t me writing this, and my best friend called me and told me this word for word, i would tell her how normal that feeling was, and that she herself knew what to do; commit. and that is my advice, dear sweet amalia, commit, commit, commit.

@22

Feb 18, 2025

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Top Recs from @emmita

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Relationships and performance

I cried like a baby the other day, and honestly I'm glad I did. In my core class I was doing some research on my EE topic, mainly focusing on Marina Abramović since I'm obsessed with her work so obviously my essay is revolved around her. Anyways, Amidst my research I took in time to view a fuller extent of The Artist is Present'. I knew it was an all day things, how people lined up to view it and even how celebrities such as Alan Rickman and Bjork sat with Abramović. The main thing about this was to have a conversation without words and instead utilize eyes, expressions, and sighs. I know there are photos and videos of people crying and such when meeting Abramović, but she wouldn't have any extreme reactions other then smiling or sometimes shedding a single tear. Moreover, she would not move her arms nor extend them to the person sitting across from her.  Ulay was a German performance artist who had a relationship with Abramović with twelve years and after mutually agreeing to separating, they decided to meet each other at the great wall of China. The two started at opposite ends and met at the middle which took three months, they hugged, and this act was called 'Lovers'. I love artist lore especially when it's about two people who have history together in the same profession. Anywho so one day while Abramović is seated with eyes shut, a guy takes a seat on front of her and when they lock eyes the two immediately becone teary eyed. Because it's Ulay and their first time seeing each other in years. They cry, laugh, smile, and for the first time extends her arms to hold Ulay's hands, to which he takes. So yeah, seeing it made me bawl and it's overall such a powerful clip. I think everyone should watch it. I think too that it encapsulates that despite growing far from a previous loved one, the emotions are still kept in tact waiting for a chance to sprout again.

@emmita

Feb 20, 2025

3

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Certain movies

I can't describe the feeling whenever I watch one of these kinds of film. Dinner In America, Buffalo 66, Little Miss Sunshine, etc. I don't know exactly how to categorize them, but they give off a certain vibe. The absurdity that happens is oddly comforting in ways I can't explain, but I enjoy them and the place they hold in my heart.

@emmita

Feb 17, 2025

2

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For myself

I have always adored art ever since I was in preschool. I loved creating characters or even doing my own renditions on characters and movies. I even took time during lockdown to work on my interest, putting in hours of learning anatomy and structure. However for a while I've been in a slump of sorts, I've lost creativity and the fuel to continue. It's been hard, especially since drawing and creating is something I've been putting effort to what seems like eons at this point. I even decided to just quit altogether and pursue something else as a dream career. There had become a point where my boyfriend gave me a pep talk and to prove his point he had read me a book he wad reading for philosophy called 'The Republic'; "All great things are precarious... Beautiful things really are difficult" and in his own words told me - "It occurs often throughout the text, anything that is easy will never be beautiful, for if it is easy it won't have the scars and marks of something built through struggle, those scars and marks are the cracks through which beautiful shines most brightly", which I think helped me. For the past month in my art class I've been researching a style called 'Jugendstil' and got a bit of inspiration again. I want to show off what I made because I'm genuinely happy with my product since a hot minute. Anyways moral of the story, don't beat yourself up if you don't find something about you or what you make up to your standards, because beautiful things take time.

@emmita

Feb 27, 2025