scale of -10 to +10, how do you feel right now?

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4. I am scared my friend will get bored and abandon me. Why do i have to be so dependent on people without being honest with them

3, I hate current modern society and how humanity gone very downhill. At least after WW2 ended there was still room for a positive good era.

negative somethings

It's funny how you learn new things about your perceptions when prompted and they arise tangentially. One time, and not that long ago in reality, I was asked, along with others, to draw your face. Simple enough (they take your photo when you go in so you've got something as a reference; they do it for the nurses for recognition due to shift changes), though I kept on crushing it up after finishing because something felt wrong with it, as it wasn't "me". The person that asked me to draw it thought it was a perfection issue and then went with reassurances that it looked fine for someone who doesn't really draw non-mechanical things. It looked fine to me too, which I communicated, it's just that it felt wrong, like the color wasn't there. Enter crayons and various colors and I repeated the drawing several times. They all looked wrong except the red one, a washed out blood red looking one. "Is that how you see yourself?" "Yeah." Enter the usual questions on what red represents, but I came up with nothing, because you can kinda interpret colors for many emotions if you think about it and wider-society has some implied ones via culture/s, and at that time, I felt more black (I eventually realized what red meant to me). It ended up being synesthesia and I actually see and associate people with colors more than their physical appearance; the latter is for recognition, but the color is for how I apparently feel towards them, ultimately see them, and it's via whatever sensory and/or emotional noise I've absorbed from them.

I've always seen my mother as green, which feels loving, comforting and natural; what you'd hope from a mother. I've always seen my father as black smoke, like that of a tire fire, even when he was neutral or ok at the time; chemical odor, choking smoke, and burning. Likely not what you'd want of a father. The oddest thing is my sister, who I've never seen as a color, just her physical presence. There's nothing there. Most people I've known or partially known have been blues, yellows, browns and oranges. One person I knew well was purple. The other white to violet. It makes me sad thinking about this.

I don't like my color.

It’s pretty good that you have enough artistic talent to draw your face. I can’t do that.

Heh, thanks, though I'm not much of an art person, well, maybe I am, but it's not something I pursue; the photo of my face on the wall helped. It's an interesting form of therapy they were doing, and I can see why they do it, as it can bring out a lot of things that people may not reveal verbally or even nonverbally. I enjoyed it much more than talking sessions, which is something I usually neglected to attend, not just because of ASD stuff, but I prefer to keep the heavy stuff personal, especially anything that's traumatic.

negative somethingies (might be a little heavy, sorry)

I've been through a lot and came out the other side alive (surviving is a neutral outcome I've realized); I'm unsure if I'm the same person I was when I went into hell. You thought that those who've been through it should be greeted with open arms as the threshold is crossed, but once through it, you feel like no one should be near you. The terrible trauma you experienced, saw and heard, which now covers you daily as a blanket of flashbacks; you fear the memories will transfer onto others as if it were an invisible contagion, and they'll experience it as you have. I feel much older. Much colder. I mostly feel shame, guilt, panic and sadness. You read words of those who've been through the same, and they say and see the same as you do, and that the road you're now on is one that only you walk, even with company, and there's no return (I was mostly on that road already; I already self-isolated). All the therapy is the same; you ask the psychiatrists for forgiveness, as the shame and guilt are unbearable, but they tell you there's nothing to be forgiven for as you did no wrong and what you feel is normal. You repeat the question in therapy numerous times as you cry, and you get the same answer. I ask God for forgiveness, but I've not sinned.

You have to forgive yourself if you want that road to lead to recovery. That's the hardest part when it comes to trauma.

-9 (most of me is ready to leave all my forums and not look back)

5.

positive 1 or so

I'm alright.

negative not that bad

The nightmares/night terrors are a bother, mostly because you have no real peace from the past, and when you wake up for the last time that night to go about your daily routine, your thoughts are already primed with the things that caused the terror the night before. The endless cycle. The day's stage began before it started. Medication can blunt the effects and make the thoughts groggy, but it can't take away the thoughts, and you know it's not going to last all that long, so it's a piece of gauze at best. The best therapy for this is distraction, whether working or hobbies, and those that require more attention, the better; you get some peace with distraction as you do forget, even if only for several minutes at a time. But, it works, even if imperfect.

The real nightmares were the days (months? years? I can't remember) you couldn't sleep at all outside of closing your eyes for minutes then your body jerks at the sound of daylight or a terror of night, and you're back to...feeling whatever that felt like; it's indescribable to me, but I'm sure many have described it quite well. This is one of those things you hope no one has to go through, but they do.

I still don't sleep that much, but hours are heaven when they happen.

-7

A kinda tired, but kinda wired, 7.

I'm a bit anxious because my daughter has her Nephrologist appt today.

Otherwise call me 5.

negative somewhere over the rainbow

It's a twisted fate when the only thing you actually fear in this life is hurting others, and you base all your actions around avoiding such; in the end, you end up hurting them all the same since you're human and sometimes there's actually no good choice to be made if you're to interact with others. Every break in your shell has been from this when you actually study what sent you there. Maybe every label you own is simply the memories of the pain you've caused others, and since you can't forget anything and the memories are as real now as they were then, it's always with you. The more you accumulate, the more you break.

You don't care if they hurt you [up to a point], as you forgive easily as most matters are small in the end to you once the initial upset is over. You can't forgive yourself.

You've lost cherished things because of this. You've saved others because of this. You've saved yourself because of this.

I have no other fear.

I wonder what made me this way.

-9 (i need a break from humans, they are dumb as f**k)