unnamed-0
It's hard for me to write a stream of thought because I can't keep my focus on one topic, and eventually it all ends up reading like a potpourri of everything related and seemingly unrelated. I promise it's all related but I lack the skill to wrap it all up in a nice knot. Experience, I guess.
(Also the reason that even though I really try to write more often, I don't publish anything. More often than not, I delete it all midway because I realize I'm not going anywhere and/or lack the ability to wrap it all up nicely. Experience, I guess.)
Frustration. I'm so angry at myself right now and I know its not helpful to but I need to feel this. I'm feeling it either way, I need to recognize it. I don't know about the merits of writing it all down here but I feel like just writing it all down here helps. I don't know how much I can write here without sharing more than I'm willing to do, but I think I can focus on a central topic and circle around there.
More specific than frustration, and at being so angry at oneself, is how that came to be. I'm the only person involved. Its tempting to say that the one that screwed me over is past me, yet not enough time has passed for past me to be significantly different to current me. It wouldn't make sense to be angry at my past actions. So I'm angry at myself.
Lets compress time. My actions led me here. Won't my actions led me somewhere else I don't like? Obvious! Therefore, compressing time, I'm angry at myself for screwing me over and being screwed over.
This only makes sense if I believe that my actions won't change. I'll keep screwing me over until I stop screwing me over. Therefore, I'll keep screwing me over. Why can't you change?
I think this is the core reason I'm angry yet it's not there really... I know rationally I can change. I don't feel it. I also can't tell if this is really the reason I'm angry at myself right now, but I believe its contributing. It follows, why do I feel this way?
Lets decompress time. In the present, right now, am I taking action so that this won't happen again? Nope. I guess this is it then!
Why?
A lot. I carry baggage. I tried to let go. I try everyday to let go but I can't. I know I should do the bare minimum possible each day, keep showing up, and that's how one learns. I can't bear the possibility of caring again. I can't bear another failure when I care.
I like writing as a stream of thought. I'm feeling on the go while I write the same way you - hypothetical second person whom I'm writing for - are feeling on the go as you read. Keep this a secret.