venting

That was that, thank god.

Did you enjoy this year?
No. 2016 is looking practically paradisiacal in comparison to this year on every level, personal and greater.

What did you do in 2025 that you’d never done before?
…nothing of any consequence. Got my ears vacuumed? Or whatever the medical term for that is.

Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Didn’t make any, and won’t. They’re just a recipe for disappointment if you live in chains.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
Don’t think so.

Did anyone close to you die?
I don’t…I hope not.

What countries did you visit?
Ha.

What would you like to have in 2026 that you lacked in 2025?
A real home, away from here, and my body, mind, health, self-esteem, finances, independence, and purpose back.

What date from 2025 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
January 16th. No stars. The Magician returns to the sea of consciousness. Our hearts are broken.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
No idea. I intended to re-enroll in university and become a nurse, but then there was the diagnosis and the end of all hope. Does the translation of practically the entire Tokyo Babylon music collection count?

What was your biggest failure?
Not telling people to fuck off when they deserved it; just sitting still and taking it in order to be a good girl. Also completely failing to kill myself for the twelfth time. Maybe I’m immortal or something.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
Had a cancer scare. And that lead to the diagnosis of ME. Explains everything. I hate it.

Did you have to go to the hospital?
A couple of times. Cancer scare.

Are you registered to vote?
Yes, thank god. I helped vote Peter Dutton out of Dickson, and out of Australian politics completely. >:)

What was the best thing you bought?
I know I got some lovely dolls this year…but I think the best thing was Peanut the Cuddle Club puppy. He’s so heavy and soft and lovely.

Whose behaviour merited celebration?
Everyone who voted Labor, woohoo! My real friends, for putting up with me. Vlodymyr Zelenskyy, for being a fucking trooper. Ukrainians, for their beautiful and heartrending resilience.

Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
Trump, Putin, Netanyahu. My family for how they treat me. The fucking anti-AI hystericalists, oh my god. I don’t even like AI but can you all just take a fucking Xanax and touch some grass?

Where did most of your money go?
Essentially stolen.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Absolutely nothing.

What song will always remind you of 2025?
“Critical Thinking”, my Manics.

Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. Happier or sadder? sadder, unbelievably.
ii. richer or poorer? I think I might be going into the new year with more money than I did last year? Pretty sure I was flat broke last year; I have $100 in savings this year. I know, right?
iii. fatter or thinner? thinner, thank god. Still a long way to go, and it’s only being unable to move to get up and make food that helps it.

What do you wish you’d done more of?
I have no idea. It feels like nothing I do has any point or makes me happy anymore. Probably writing, I think?

What do you wish you’d done less of?
Crying and wishing I was dead. Not joking, not fishing for sympathy. Just the facts. Letting myself be used.

How will you be spending Christmas?
Spent. Here. It was hell. I had all my decorations down before Boxing Day ended, that’s how much I hated it this year.

Where did you ring in 2025?
Here. Where the fuck else would I have been? At least I wasn’t out of my mind miserable at the time.

Did you fall in love in 2025?
No.

What was your favourite TV programme?
…good question; I don’t think I watched anything in particular, and if I did…I’ve forgotten. So, still Rings of Power season 2, then!

Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Yep.

What was the best book you read?
Oh wow, Orpheus Nine by Chris Flynn. Hands down. What an awful, lovely novel. The Lifecycle of Software Objects by Ted Chiang also got me right in the heart. Special mentions to Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner by A.A. Milne; saving my anxious and traumatised ass from nightmares on the regular. ♥

What was your greatest musical discovery?
Discovery, discovery…I don’t really know. I didn’t branch out much this year, due to all my favourites (Manics, Bump, Suede) all coughing up new albums!

What did you want and get?
Ha.

What did you want and not get?
To get out of here. To belong somewhere. To be treated like a human being.
And Oahu markers. I wanted them badly. I spent the money I saved up for them on Christmas presents for people who literally hold me in the same esteem as they hold JD Vance. I’m as dumb as a bag of rocks.

Were you in school (any time this year)?
I have ME. You do the math.

How did you earn your keep?
Disability pension, some webdesign gigs. I hate my life.

What was your favourite film of this year?
The only one I saw was “KPop Demon Hunters”, so I guess that wins by default. (It was…okay? I didn’t really get the hype and I hated the ugly memefaces, but it wasn’t the worst way to waste an hour or two.)

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was too old, and I mostly just…was sad. (And hot. Good god that day was humid.)

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Winning the fucking lotto and getting the fuck right outta Dodge forever.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2025?
“Oooh, black. I like black.”

What kept you sane?
Kept me what?

What political issue stirred you the most?
Jesus Christ, what didn’t this year?!

Who did you miss?
Pete. But I think she’s…I think she’s someone I’ll miss forever now. If you know…what I mean.

Who was the best new person you met?
Probably Nancy? I think I met her this year, anyway; she’s awesome and cute. 😀

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2025:
There’s no such thing as a just universe.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
Even our screams are intravenous, I’m so ashamed of my self-cеnsoring
Why do I feel old and vulnerable? We all know who’s rеsponsible…
— “OneManMilitia”, Manic Street Preachers

brainsick

精神錯乱

I had about half an entry about the ungodly PTSD-filled disaster today was written, and then I just kind of…stopped, because…

…literally who cares? no, really. nobody cares.

I spent half an hour unable to do anything other than shiver violently and cry into my hands and nobody checked on me. my PTSD does not matter. my trauma does not matter. I do not matter and I’ve run out of energy to try and matter. online, offline, wherever. I don’t matter.

and like, I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care about that, because I do. the weight of nothingness is unbelievable.

I just want someone to give a flying fuck. I want my pain to be acknowledged and seen as valid. That isn’t going to happen in a living situation where 50% of the household looks at me like I’m a cockroach and will get on my ass for not saying thank you while I’m white-knuckling what little sanity and calm I have available to me to get away from them, the fucking actual triggers.

like, I’m super glad everyone else is “calm” and the “hiccup” is over for them, but it’s not for me, because it can’t be, because fucking PTSD is a whoring son of a bitch.

I don’t know what to say or how to put it that doesn’t make it…I don’t know, dire? Overdramatic? Childish? But I’m fucking tired. I’m fucking tired of twisting myself into knots to try and get people to give a shit about my pain and my trauma and my right to feel safe.

I want someone here to see my pain.
I want to be able to change it.

Neither of those things will ever happen while I’m stuck living here, and I’m not being dramatic or catastrophising or anything. I do not matter in this place. I’m not a person, I’m just a thing. I’m less than a rodent or an insect. They can scream and shout and kick walls and break doors and do whatever they like; if I cry because I’m frightened I’m just a selfish bitch.

Living here is killing me. I literally can’t remember what happiness used to feel like.

So I fell off the SI wagon. And in a sick way, I’m almost glad I did, because it’s like…proof. Proof that this was not just a little thing that didn’t affect me.

I’ll be told that it wasn’t that bad and that was such a silly thing to do and blah blah blah and like, yes it was? And yeah, I know? I just. It’s that Richey quote, you know: “I’m not a person who can scream and shout so this is my only outlet. It’s all done very logically.”

I wanted that oxytocin rush. I was too deep in PTSD hell to get it. So it’s even stupider now.

Everything is stupid. My whole life is stupid.

I just want to matter, even if it’s just to myself.

Merry fucking Christmas.

WTFIDEK

I’m holding space for more BS! I’m honoring– shutup.

Look, this is really, really fucking important and people really need to fucking stop with the faux-therapy speak BS (because it’s not real therapy speech, it’s some sort of twisted self-satisfying version of it) but honestly, honestly? The first few shorts had me giggling my head off despite this, because I was matching so many names to the actions, and like…I couldn’t stop laughing? I’m going to take that as a step towards healing, because I just couldn’t be mad right now to save my life…I’m exhausted, which may be why, but hey!

Like, [name] wasn’t “protecting [their] peace”. [They] were just too cowardly to break up with me like a mature human being, and hearing [their] words parroted back at me via a TikTok, of all things? It’s so funny. And [they’re] the butt of the joke, not me. XD

health

This isn’t FAIR.

I’M SICK OF BEING SICK.

I just want to sit up and code, for the love of god. I don’t want to run a marathon or attend a dance party or hit the city or anything, I just want to code a stupid webpage about stuff that literally probably NOBODY cares less about anymore. I’m not asking to do anything major, I’m asking for the strength to SIT UP and perform a SEDENTARY. HOBBY.

I know it’s rotten of me, but I also don’t care: I’m so sick of people whining about (supposed, newsflash: people online tell lies, especially about diseases completely lacking detectable biomarkers) ME/CFS and then…just living a normal life?! Going to their jobs, dancing around their cities, hanging with their friends, etc. But remembering every now and then to remind everyone about how ME/CFS sucks…without mentioning a single symptom that’s ruining or even mildly affecting their day, mind you…just how they’re ~*~sicker than you~*~ because they definitely, absolutely, totally have it.

Being sick with this horrible disease is not an identity. ME/CFS is not a cute trendy accessory. Being sick with this is absolute life-destroying hell, and if you think otherwise, you aren’t sick. Eat me.

I gatekeep because I care.
(About people suffering like me. I don’t give two damns about the accessorisers.)

I can’t. sit. up.
Trying to do so has me passing out.
But do tell me again about how AWFUL your life with “CFS” is, please do, especially while you zap down the street to grab a coffee, something that would have me collapsed in bed for a week if I even tried it. I am all empathetic ears, by which I mean I hope you get hit by a train.

Actually, no I don’t.

I hope you end up like me.

(“OMG, you’re such a monster, you’re so mean!”)
Cry me a fucking river.

I’m going to go lay down for another three hours because I had the utter gall to attempt to sit upright for five minutes.