I wanna sleep in your car while you’re driving
I started this newsletter because I felt lost. However many months later, I don’t know how much that’s changed. I’m still conflicted about how and whether to create things. I still feel a loss of identity and purpose that used to seem clear.
I lie in bed at night writing in my head, but those lines rarely make it any further. I question what the point is in creating things when I’m driven by a need for validation or to be “known”. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe creating things is a duty. I feel lazy and avoidant, like I run from anything that I’m not immediately good at.
In the last week I’ve watched at least five videos about the costumes in the mediocre drama Bridgerton, but I criticize myself for wanting to explore thoughts that relate vaguely to things I’ve seen before. I tell myself I’m not good at anything. I tell myself I’m washed up at 30. I tell myself I’m not pretty anymore. I tell myself I can snap out of whatever this is. I imagine new futures but none of them feel possible.
I’m withdrawing off meds again, and I’m bored of writing about it. I met a girl today off Bumble BFF and couldn’t stop observing myself and criticizing my performativity while trying to have a pleasant conversation.
I don’t know where to draw the line between letting people see me and protecting myself from the world. I don’t know how to be private.
I’m cold. It’s summer, but it rained today and the wind has been strong. It’s going to be another year before I can go home. I want to be with people who make me feel like myself.