This thought comes with massive trigger warnings, for SH related
reasons, and frankly just sheer extinctual panic and dread.
I fear falling through the cracks. It’s a feeling I’m very familiar with. The feeling that all your life is free fall, just trying to grasp anything for a strong support, some way to hold yourself. But you just keep falling and falling, faster and faster, into the dark. Into the abyss where no one can find you.
I’m so tired of playing death hell capitalism. I have had at this point 9 different jobs in the past 6 years or so (3 alone last year), and I’m just so exhausted. Even now, when I haven’t had a regular job in months it haunts me and torments me in nightmares. Maybe it’s my mental illness, maybe the potential ADHD and autism, it’s probably both. Sometimes it really does feel like not having a job and then not existing is a better solution than having to try and suffer through it. Everyone says things will get better, but the road in our society always leads there, work, and with my past experience it doesn’t seem better. I’m not afraid of work. It’s not even that I don’t want to, I just can’t some days, and that’s not good enough for companies. I know I probably shouldn’t think about it too much. That’s how everyone else gets by, probably, either that and/or substance abuse (I’ve already seen the seeds of that for me and I’m wary of it now).
It just feels so bleak that that’s all that waits after school, maybe that’s why I switched majors in part, maybe I saw my future and it terrified me so much I decided finding a way to stay in school was preferable. At the same time, now that I am switching, almost everyone in my classes is a few years younger than me, and I can already feel the slip, I can feel the time start to wear. It’s just, if shit is this hard now, how am I supposed to keep it up when I’m 40? 60? When getting up is painful and everything slowly falls apart past 70? I just can’t see it happening right now if I’m honest. I know it’s possible that there are people that might read this, and worry about me because of saying those things, and that’s valid. These are not things that stable people say and I know it. I’m just so, so exhausted. This society is specifically built for people unlike me. As much as I’m excited too about exploring more of my gender expression and finding joy in that, at the same time, I worry that will make that effect worse. The feeling of not being able to ever fit in wears sometimes. I know I will never fill any box well. I don’t fit in, and being trans, nonbinary, bi, neurodivergent, or any other label I fear will just make it worse.
These are not positive things, but maybe it’s good to give these thoughts light rather than shoving them to the back of my mind for them to slip out when I’m not being careful. I mean, that’s how I got to thinking them again in the first place. Although they always lurk just out of sight. They’re like rats* that scurry through my brain and eat away at my conscious, robbing me of days or weeks or months until I can catch them again. I’m letting someone else, whoever decides to read this, see the rats, and maybe you can’t see them, and that’s okay too.
*Also, these rats are not nice, friendly rats that I’d like to pet, they are vile, swollen, decrypted hunks, vaguely rat shaped, and smelling of rot and pestilence, with screams like nails on chalkboards, eyes the color of mold, and fur matted with bile.