My mind has been blank lately. I start to write or type up any post, and my brain flakes out. I’ve not been able to type much on my phone due to my carpal tunnel syndrome acting up and hurting so bad.

Instead of reorganizing my room, I am likely gonna be packing things I don’t need right now. I don’t have a place to move to yet (or an income 😓😳), but I don’t see the point—or any productivity whatsoever—of reorganizing my room and removing things from boxes if they’re just gonna go back into them. 💁 My dad once told me I always keep at least one box packed because it’s what I’m used to—always moving every one-to-two years because my mom and her husband did that—so I feel guilty for still having boxes, but much of these now are from Mimi emptying her storage unit. (It was a house before she had it removed.)

I’ve been here for five years…that’s gotta stand for something.

I keep going back to this capability thing. I feel capable of more than people think, just not what they expect. For example, I can cook a few advanced meals, but I’m expected to need help; whereas no matter how hard I try, I am still more exhausted during the day and radiant at night. I’m still scared to drive and would like my suicide attempt under psychosis to not be passed off as a “yeah, but you’re better now”, but that’s a rant for another time I guess.

I can feel like I am going someplace, but the minute someone unaware of my progress or process says something condescending or negative about it, my whole world feels like it’s crashing down. I can only take so many hits before I’m too weak to stand—before my legs and my knees are too bruised and busted to hold up the rest of my body, and my chest is hurting too hard to breathe.

I just feel really blank right now. Under pressure, I blank out—and I’m under a lot right now. 😰

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