/lit/ - Literature

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHeJq1rJmHs

Feeling like reading some Haruki Murakami but I have too many books accumulated over the past year that I'd feel guilty to read something outside of that collection. I've become a consumer, buying things I won't immediately use just to have them on hand, and it's gotten to the point that I feel guilty and unhappy with myself.

What are your dreams like?

I just watched a brief video on journaling where they talk about how it has served as an important function in life and a nice sentimental and nostalgic window in to where they were and how they've changed, stayed the same, and moved forward. I recently read through a journal of mine covering the years 2013-2018 that records and evokes nothing but pain, frustration, and stagnation. I'm still writing about the same feelings, the same lack of progress, the same struggles with depression, anxiety, socialization, and drugs. It was miserable to look back nearly ten years and see myself in the same place.

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I wanted to buy alcohol today but after pacing around my house for half an hour I stayed home. It throws off the reading I like to do when I get in to bed. If I wake up hungover I tend to start drinking in the morning, that throws away another day. My heart feels strained and I have a bag of cocaine that would be hard to keep away from if I drank. I feel dismayed that my accomplishments in life have become nothing more than staying sober for a few days to a few weeks at a time.

Im trying to understand why I unconsciously hate my mom in a way that I do everything opposite no matter what she says. I think that I'm still blaming her for me burning my hand (when I was 11 months old). However I received undivided love and attention when she was caring for me. I still crave for this nurturing that I still remain in such a poor current situation (living with parents at the price of my individuality). I dont know what to do.

Thinking about all the missed teenage and uni love opportunities. Maybe it wasnt meant to be after all. Why am I such a neurotic wreck? Why I couldnt be a normal person?