The Forever War
God damn, it's been close to 8 years fighting this despair. 8 years, and I'm still right in the thick of it.
Had a hell of a breakdown during work today. The internal pressure was just building, and building, and things were feeling more and more hopeless, until a dam broke inside me, and I just started crying. I work on my own, and I don't really talk to anybody else during work that much, so I was able to get to the bathroom before the real embarrassing blubbering started. But it, uh, definitely started.
I wrote in the other blog today. It got pretty bad. I wrote it all in the bathroom at work, during the aforementioned crying session. I'm not quite sure what compels me to write when I'm at my absolute lowest. I think part of it is that it's the only way to express myself without having to be afraid of anyone judging me. I get to get it out of my system without having to worry about anyone throwing me in the loony bin.
I'm not sure how I would want someone who came across those writings to feel. I mostly just hope they understand, I suppose. It's a strange contradiction; I want what I do to be seen, but I don't want to be the one to show it to anyone. I want whoever sees what I make to find it, in a sense.
I think we live in a culture, especially on the modern internet, of shoving ourselves down other people's throats. It's unbearable, everyone's got to be the loudest, most self-promoting windbag who just talks, talks, talks about their projects, and their brand, and their takes, 24/7. And that's what all of these bloody algorithms incentivize! It's part of what I find so refreshing about bearblog. People can just write what they want, and I can go through it, and read what I please. Nobody's desperately screaming for my attention. But I digress.
It's been a long damned fight, and I'm not doing well. I'm giving it all I got, but I don't got very much. I'm not sure what to do, but I'll do it, if I can.