Sooooooooooooooo...the internet's down.
AGAIN.
RIGHT in the middle of something REALLY IMPORTANT.
At least when it went down yesterday, it had the courtesy of going down in the middle of something not-so-important. (Albeit before I could actually DO the important stuff...which, you know. Is basically just as bad. Since now I can't do the important stuff AGAIN.)
You have no clue.
NO clue.
How frustrating it is to have unexplained, unannounced downages like this which ABSOLUTELY SCREW with your life.
I do seriously live on the internet. I needed them to talk to, about some things, and before I got the chance to, THIS happened, interrupting the whole thing.
Basically, I needed to vent, about a lot of the things I have had going on, stuff that I wasn't really planning on blogging about, because the stuff I wanted to blog about is different stuff that I have piled up.
More or less, it comes to how I've gotten into a very bad place. The staff meeting on Saturday talked about transgender-related things a bit, no harm there given a now-benign policy, and staff present seeming to accept it well enough. The problem came when I had to deal with changing into my swim attire...and that's when dysphoria hit me.
HARD.
Like...really, really, REALLY hard. And that put me in a worse mindset of not wanting to do anything at all. My mind just...kinda...shut down. It hit me hard. Really, really, really, REALLY hard. That pain. That overwhelming, intense sensation, where I wished I could break down crying but even if that was socially acceptable to do it's biologically impossible for me.
That feeling. Of being a freak. You know Shinichi, from Parasyte? He's a great character for displaying traits of autistic people. He might not have been meant that way. But that portrayal is DEAD ON for what someone like me actually, truthfully, is like: someone who on the surface is normal enough, but is physically incapable of having those intense emotions be on display.
I can't cry. I wanted to. I really, really wanted to cry in that moment. Where I shut down and could do nothing. But...I couldn't. No social pressure holding me back in the unisex bathroom I was changing in. Purely biological, that intense overpowering emotion defying words, sadness, fear, confusion, longing, anger, despair, all in one moment...yet I could do absolutely nothing to display this strong emotion. Because...because it's just not in me. My autism prevents me from venting like that.
That feeling, it's so...damaging. Feeling like you're broken. Feeling like there's something so fundamentally WRONG in your life, and being unable to do anything about it.
...And all of this accelerated the feeling I knew was already there, that of my depression.
Why do you think it's been hard for me to get my blog up and running?
Why do you think I've had trouble posting anything?
Why do you think I haven't mentioned Red Hood Rider work?
It's because I've done almost none.
I've...crashed.
It's like I've given up. Not just on Red Hood Rider. On life itself.
That feeling is not an easy one to admit. I wanted to talk to others about it, not to an empty blog I'm lucky people even are vaguely aware exists, yet alone, read. Heck, even if people DO read this.
Know how many comments I get on my blog?
Basically zero.
Know how many comments people give me about my blog? Like, PMs saying they've read or skimmed it and they give some vague feedback?
A few, scattered here and there, but never consistently. It's once in a blue moon. How often do those happen? Once, twice a year? Maybe three times? So probably quite literally that amount of times, is how often I get those PMs.
For the vast majority of the time...no comments.
Nothing.
People saying they read the blog. Which in a more reasonable state of mind, I'd be inclined to believe.
...Yet in my current state of mind? I even doubt that. I shouldn't. It's terrible to say. I'm basically, in my mind, calling the people who are trying to support me liars. Do you know how awful that is to say? Yet here I am. In my rambles. In my depression...thinking it anyway. So I'm sorry to those who read this. You're reading it, after all. You deserve better than to be doubted.
...But I can't give you that because in my current state of mind, I have nothing but negative in mind.
This is basically a tangent, to what I was going to say: I don't like venting my thoughts purely on my blog for a simple reason: that lack of feedback. It's not your fault, readers. I can't realistically expect anyone to read this blog. I've said so many times. It's supposed to be a daily blog, but my update times and dates are WILDLY inconsistent. And the content of the blog is, too!
Sometimes I say nothing of any value, filler just to say I posted during that day. Should I expect that to be read? No.
Other times I write what could seriously be a novella, pretty sure some of my longer blog posts (heck, this blog post is long yet isn't even CLOSE to the length of some of my longest blog posts!) reach that sort of length. Can I expect them to be read? Heck no. I can't even expect them to be skimmed!
And my posts go on long tangents. Stream of thought posting is how my blog works, mostly, so it's disjointed.
So it's not your doing. It's mine. (Plus there's also the lack of advertisement. I do have in my sig a link to the blog. I do have the blog public enough where it's easy to find. I do reference it on occasion. But I don't accentuate JUST how much the blog can mean, though.)
Yet that fact remains true regardless. Don't feel guilty about it, that'd only make ME feel guilty about making you feel guilty. But the simple truth is: on this blog, I don't get feedback. I'm venting to a wall. A wall that is basically just a place for me to get things off my chest.
...But it's not a place where I can get that feedback, and I'm in a mindset where I could REALLY have used that. Which is why I didn't want this on the blog, where I'd get none. I wanted it posted to a place where people would give their thoughts, give their support, even if just simple things I already know. Like...even just hearing them say "hugs".
It's not an instantaneous feedback; this isn't a live chat thing. But within a day or two, I've got people there. They can't do anything tangible to help me. Never can. Not given MY problems. They can't even do much which I don't already do myself.
...But it's still there. People, giving their thoughts. People, giving their words. People, giving what little support they can, even though they know just as well as I do that what they give is basically worthless.
It's enough, though. They get me out of that rut. Because people helping me, no matter how little, is still PEOPLE, responding to me, showing that I'm not alone.
And that's the feeling internet isolation forces upon me.
Now...with that said...still need to talk about Red Hood Rider.
Basically...got nothing done at all on it, still. I got in a bad rut. So I went back to one of my largest inspirations, Rain, and read the entire webcomic over the course of three days. It helped. A lot. For a short while, until Saturday crushed my spirits yet once more.
But I did manage to produce some content. Not much, mostly filler images which I'll get up at some point, but enough to have made some progress.
Soyeah.
I crashed and burned.
Trying to recover now.
AGAIN.
RIGHT in the middle of something REALLY IMPORTANT.
At least when it went down yesterday, it had the courtesy of going down in the middle of something not-so-important. (Albeit before I could actually DO the important stuff...which, you know. Is basically just as bad. Since now I can't do the important stuff AGAIN.)
You have no clue.
NO clue.
How frustrating it is to have unexplained, unannounced downages like this which ABSOLUTELY SCREW with your life.
I do seriously live on the internet. I needed them to talk to, about some things, and before I got the chance to, THIS happened, interrupting the whole thing.
Basically, I needed to vent, about a lot of the things I have had going on, stuff that I wasn't really planning on blogging about, because the stuff I wanted to blog about is different stuff that I have piled up.
More or less, it comes to how I've gotten into a very bad place. The staff meeting on Saturday talked about transgender-related things a bit, no harm there given a now-benign policy, and staff present seeming to accept it well enough. The problem came when I had to deal with changing into my swim attire...and that's when dysphoria hit me.
HARD.
Like...really, really, REALLY hard. And that put me in a worse mindset of not wanting to do anything at all. My mind just...kinda...shut down. It hit me hard. Really, really, really, REALLY hard. That pain. That overwhelming, intense sensation, where I wished I could break down crying but even if that was socially acceptable to do it's biologically impossible for me.
That feeling. Of being a freak. You know Shinichi, from Parasyte? He's a great character for displaying traits of autistic people. He might not have been meant that way. But that portrayal is DEAD ON for what someone like me actually, truthfully, is like: someone who on the surface is normal enough, but is physically incapable of having those intense emotions be on display.
I can't cry. I wanted to. I really, really wanted to cry in that moment. Where I shut down and could do nothing. But...I couldn't. No social pressure holding me back in the unisex bathroom I was changing in. Purely biological, that intense overpowering emotion defying words, sadness, fear, confusion, longing, anger, despair, all in one moment...yet I could do absolutely nothing to display this strong emotion. Because...because it's just not in me. My autism prevents me from venting like that.
That feeling, it's so...damaging. Feeling like you're broken. Feeling like there's something so fundamentally WRONG in your life, and being unable to do anything about it.
...And all of this accelerated the feeling I knew was already there, that of my depression.
Why do you think it's been hard for me to get my blog up and running?
Why do you think I've had trouble posting anything?
Why do you think I haven't mentioned Red Hood Rider work?
It's because I've done almost none.
I've...crashed.
It's like I've given up. Not just on Red Hood Rider. On life itself.
That feeling is not an easy one to admit. I wanted to talk to others about it, not to an empty blog I'm lucky people even are vaguely aware exists, yet alone, read. Heck, even if people DO read this.
Know how many comments I get on my blog?
Basically zero.
Know how many comments people give me about my blog? Like, PMs saying they've read or skimmed it and they give some vague feedback?
A few, scattered here and there, but never consistently. It's once in a blue moon. How often do those happen? Once, twice a year? Maybe three times? So probably quite literally that amount of times, is how often I get those PMs.
For the vast majority of the time...no comments.
Nothing.
People saying they read the blog. Which in a more reasonable state of mind, I'd be inclined to believe.
...Yet in my current state of mind? I even doubt that. I shouldn't. It's terrible to say. I'm basically, in my mind, calling the people who are trying to support me liars. Do you know how awful that is to say? Yet here I am. In my rambles. In my depression...thinking it anyway. So I'm sorry to those who read this. You're reading it, after all. You deserve better than to be doubted.
...But I can't give you that because in my current state of mind, I have nothing but negative in mind.
This is basically a tangent, to what I was going to say: I don't like venting my thoughts purely on my blog for a simple reason: that lack of feedback. It's not your fault, readers. I can't realistically expect anyone to read this blog. I've said so many times. It's supposed to be a daily blog, but my update times and dates are WILDLY inconsistent. And the content of the blog is, too!
Sometimes I say nothing of any value, filler just to say I posted during that day. Should I expect that to be read? No.
Other times I write what could seriously be a novella, pretty sure some of my longer blog posts (heck, this blog post is long yet isn't even CLOSE to the length of some of my longest blog posts!) reach that sort of length. Can I expect them to be read? Heck no. I can't even expect them to be skimmed!
And my posts go on long tangents. Stream of thought posting is how my blog works, mostly, so it's disjointed.
So it's not your doing. It's mine. (Plus there's also the lack of advertisement. I do have in my sig a link to the blog. I do have the blog public enough where it's easy to find. I do reference it on occasion. But I don't accentuate JUST how much the blog can mean, though.)
Yet that fact remains true regardless. Don't feel guilty about it, that'd only make ME feel guilty about making you feel guilty. But the simple truth is: on this blog, I don't get feedback. I'm venting to a wall. A wall that is basically just a place for me to get things off my chest.
...But it's not a place where I can get that feedback, and I'm in a mindset where I could REALLY have used that. Which is why I didn't want this on the blog, where I'd get none. I wanted it posted to a place where people would give their thoughts, give their support, even if just simple things I already know. Like...even just hearing them say "hugs".
It's not an instantaneous feedback; this isn't a live chat thing. But within a day or two, I've got people there. They can't do anything tangible to help me. Never can. Not given MY problems. They can't even do much which I don't already do myself.
...But it's still there. People, giving their thoughts. People, giving their words. People, giving what little support they can, even though they know just as well as I do that what they give is basically worthless.
It's enough, though. They get me out of that rut. Because people helping me, no matter how little, is still PEOPLE, responding to me, showing that I'm not alone.
And that's the feeling internet isolation forces upon me.
Now...with that said...still need to talk about Red Hood Rider.
Basically...got nothing done at all on it, still. I got in a bad rut. So I went back to one of my largest inspirations, Rain, and read the entire webcomic over the course of three days. It helped. A lot. For a short while, until Saturday crushed my spirits yet once more.
But I did manage to produce some content. Not much, mostly filler images which I'll get up at some point, but enough to have made some progress.
Soyeah.
I crashed and burned.
Trying to recover now.
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