allthetimesivedied

If you ask “Are you a whale?” I will ignore you and your question will not be relayed to him (he can’t read, because he’s a—FUCK [“I’m a whale!”]

I often forget that with one exception I have never, ever, ever been happy with another living thing in the room. I hate speaking—I wish I had been born mute because the anxiety that’s been tied around my neck as long as I can remember makes everything come out wrong. I wish I hadn’t been Narcan’d. When I finally fucking die, don’t be sad. When I was 4 years old my father screamed his fucking head off at me because I wouldn’t smile for a picture—I don’t think I’ve ever been happy, I just forget sometimes how mean this world is, and those moments don’t really justify anything else. When I die I’ll forget that I exist, and I’ll finally be alone, and the only person I’ve ever loved won’t be afraid of me anymore.

TW for suicide, and drugs.

Spare me the usual replies, please. I’ve heard them all.

I’m going to drop Creamsicle off at a friend’s house today.

“Yay!”

Then I’m probably going to acquire fentanyl somehow, and forget that I ever existed.

I’ve considered writing a letter to my friend, the one I’m always talking about. Creamsicle was originally supposed to be a birthday present for them, but they didn’t want him. I’d love for him to go live with them, but I don’t want them to be sad. I think I just want them to forget I ever existed. I know they probably won’t be too sad but I don’t know. I wish I could say goodbye.

Every single fucking day sucks. I am in the same exact hole today, on March 22nd, 2024, as I was on March 22nd, 2023, and on March 22nd, 2022. The only difference is I just keep getting slightly worse every year. Each winter hurts more than the last. More people stop talking to me and I smile less and life becomes increasingly more stupid and meaningless.

I have to drop Creamsicle off at a friend’s (not the one I’m twacking out about in the next paragraph) house tomorrow because I’m scared of him getting lost/hurt out here.

I’d do anything for another chance, or just to talk to my friend one last time—or even for them to just believe me when I say that I’m sorry. Being cut off and told to fucking move on by everyone isn’t working, what a shocker. I truly believe that nobody who says this has any idea what they’re talking about. I’m skirting a bit dangerously close to getting myself addicted to fentanyl. That’ll be fucking fun, won’t it?

All they have to do is realize I’m not a fucking freak—which they might already realize—and talk to me, but no, the way I feel ~%*isn’t normal*%~, so I have to die. Too bad I was born with a fucking penis, eh? I wonder how they’ll feel when I die. I actually hope they don’t give a single shit about me, because I don’t want them to be sad, or blame themselves or whatever. I’m not even sure I want someone to reach out to them for me, to give them the letter I want to write for them.

There’s just no place for me in this world.

I’m not skeptical per se. I’ve just been propagandized so fucking much—I grew up watching those propagandocumentaries on the National Geographic Channel about the DPRK, etc., fr that was what I watched instead of cartoons lol.

Pretend I’m a lib who you’re trying to convince, or something. In addition to calming this feeling in my gut like something isn’t making sense, I want to be able to make this argument, myself.

I’m being smuggled in on a bike trailer. It’s fucking hilarious.

It’s some stupid AA/NA bullshit, I don’t know. And while it isn’t always a sign that someone is a chode—I used to have a friend who used the phrase, and would send me money specifically so I wouldn’t have to go into withdrawal—every other time I’ve seen this term used, it’s come from someone who’s actively trying to make life for actual addicts an even worse Hell than it usually already is—usually by spreading and enforcing stereotypes and junk science—and then trying to be like “Hey, I’m an addict too.”

And what’s really gross is how these people seem to actually believe that they’re helping us. It doesn’t matter how much I scream in pain—the unyielding finger-pointing, the trashing of my image, the burning of my sources for kickdowns or whatever, the stress and the self-loathing they try to impress upon me, it’s all because I have to “hit rock bottom” in order to seek help and get sober. And of course they don’t care if “rock bottom” is a noose or a gun or a huge rip off some straight fetty powder.

Sorry but, if you aren't going to the restroom to hit a pipe or cook up a shot—or whatever, I’m trying to be poetic or something—or hitting a bottle of “water” or “juice” or whatever that isn’t water or juice or whatever; or blacking out and stealing a bunch of shit and dropping a mixtape on SoundCloud that’s just mumbling over a trap beat, you aren’t an addict. If you used to do that and got clean you’re maybe an addict emiritus. Idk shut up. Do whatever you want mang just don’t call yourself an addict to shit on other addicts; you know how much it fucking sucks to be here.

Like holy shit no I’m not. I wish I could film myself all day every day because I know I talk fucking strange, make weird facial expressions, walk funny, move my head weird, etc., all things I want to work on, because I know people look at me like I’m a fucking alien, because these are all things I should have smoothed out by the time I was like 13 but fucking didn’t.

I know there isn’t really anything wrong with me, but when I listen to the way I talk, see the way I behave in the wild, etc., I am exactly someone who I would be embarrassed to be around. I know that’s shitty of me, that I would be embarrassed to be around someone, but idk what to tell you.

Even when I’ve been awake for a couple days and say some fucking bizarre shit to someone they’re like “Oh no you're fine you talk normal” NO I DON’T.

Are these people concerned about being ableist or something? Because it’s even more ableist to fucking coddle me and lie to me when I’m trying to figure out why (generally) nobody likes me.

I notice this with a lot of autistic people, including myself.

There’s two “accents,” actually.

One of them is kind of growly, for lack of a better term; like how it sounds when you tense up your lips/when you talk while trying not to move them, if that makes any sense. This could just be sampling error, but this seems to be more of a thing with people who are AFAB.

The other (which, funny enough, seems to skew more towards AMAB people, myself among them, though notice I said seems to skew more towards, so it’s not a 1:1 thing) is almost like a faint British accent. Like you’re a fancy English barrister who lectures at Oxford and you’re learning to talk like a normal person.

Does this make any fucking sense?

Could it have to do with how “well-adjusted” someone is? Like as you’re forced to mask/learn how to pretend to be normal, the awkward British professor thing fades; the growl (which I think I sorta have too, maybe) is a substrate that’s left behind.

Let me know right away if this is complete nonsense so I can be embarrassed and delete it as soon as possible.

cross-posted from: https://lemmygrad.ml/post/3326689

Nearly one-fifth of Israeli soldiers killed in Gaza died due to friendly fire and other accidents, IDF says 😂

Taken with my iPhone 12 Mini (I am not joking).