I Think My Brain Broke, Because I Forgot The Word For Pizza, And The First Thing That Popped Into My

It's 3:30 AM and I know I should be asleep, especially seance I have to wake up early tomorrow, but I'm too proud of myself to care. For the past, I don't even know how long, I've been in that extremely depressive stage where I'll just lay in bed all day and it's hard to tell what's real from something I dreamed about. But tonight, I finally put in the effort to clean my third of the room, fold my clothes, put them into draws, organize my desk and selves, including sort through a bunch of papers, and just all-round be productive!

Just wanted a post to remember the day.

6/9/2025 My dad almost sent me to a psych-ward over a panic attack. I was crying and he threatened to hit me with a wooden paddle three times if I didn't do what he asked, the third time I was going to let him, but he stopped right before he did because I still wouldn't move. He threatened to send me somewhere while I was crying on the bathroom floor and over-heard him on the phone with dispatch telling them he thought I was "a danger to herself." He told me to go pack, and I finally calmed down enough to tell him what was wrong. My bag has been sitting on my bed packed for over five hours. So far no one has come, so I think I'm in the clear. I genuinely thought I would end up bleeding out on the bathroom floor or in a mental hospital by now, so I guess tonight went better then it could've?

Me: Hey, weren't you going to take a shower today?

My sister: It's one am!?

Me, hair dripping wet with my towel still in hand:

Her:

Online interaction I had that makes me smile for some reson:

"Does that mean there's a very killable child in the area?"

"Oh, damn. You're right....."

Today we got to help a couple out with yard work, mostly involving raking up leaves, unfortunately, it was raining. So, ya. That was fun. The second I got home I layed down on the couch and passed out for two hours. Yay.

The kidneys connected to the egg bone.

The egg bones connected to the flip phone.

The flip phones connected to the trombone.

The trombones connected to the mouth stones.

The mouth stones connected to the red cloak.

The red cloaks connected to the leg room.

The leg rooms connected to the lawsuit.

The lawsuits connected to the bomb soot.

The bomb soots connected to the *shoots gun twice*

And these are the months of the year!

*claps hands twice like in if you're happy and you know it*

I'm listening to Creator by Lena Raine, the music box version, and I really feel like wandering through an empty castle during a storm and crying. Like the lost ghost of a child long forgotten, mourning the loss of love never received. Like the pain would be physical, yet silent, if they still had a body to feel.

... or something like that.

When does a car become a meteor?

My dad just called me into his room. I was sure I was in trouble, like majorly-screwed-grounded-till-collage kind of trouble. When I walked into the room, he handed me a full pint of key-lime ice-cream with barely a spoonful taken out of it.

I would say I'm surprised, but this is honestly like the twentieth time he's done this.

I need to stop being to paranoid.

When me and my siblings were little, we were told stories about these "Older Siblings" who all died in the most strangest ways. The most memorable one was about an "Older Brother" who died while running a marathon. He was running backwards while eating a bowl of cereal and ran off the track. He ended up running straight off a cliff. My older brother said the story always gave him nightmares, yet our parents claim they don't know where the stories came from. We still don't know the source, and the only other stories I can recall, though I don't remember the details, is one about an "Older Sister" who ate flowers and was poisoned, and an "Older Brother" who drowned under frozen ice due to some unusual circumstances.