Therapy was so goooooood today

The first thing I told my absolutely beautiful therapist was that I got drunk on one and a half litres of wine on Saturday, and I picked up my phone and called my dad. I couldn’t wait to tell her I’d forgotten to say hi, and she had to remind me to sit down. I have been no contact with my dad for so long, along with the rest of my family, both nuclear and extended. He was so happy to hear from me and was excited that his daughter was doing well. I also asked him not to tell my mum that I was talking to him again. If anything good came out of the text my “best friend” sent to her boyfriend, it is the fact that I got drunk and wanted to talk to family, and my dad was the first person to come to mind, and the interaction ended up healing me in some way.

I actually love that man (my dad, I mean). I spent so much of my life hating him because of what my mother told me about him. All the evidence I had about the badness of my dad was my mum’s stories. Fuck my mum! She made me think my dad practised witchcraft and was responsible for any misfortune that befell our lovely family. I hope she is doing well; however, she can thrive and do well far, far away from me. The thought of her being part of my life makes my skin crawl.

My sister likely thinks I am suffering and broke, and this kind of makes me want to laugh. Why did she send my friend a message asking whether I can pay my rent, and also asking for a picture of me? Lol! I sent her an email asking her to stop texting my friends and to leave me alone until I am ready to talk to her. This was my message:

I just want to be left alone. So, maybe respect that boundary until I am ready to speak to you and stop bothering my friends.

This was her response:

Ok. If you get stuck, call on the name of Jesus. I will respect your boundary and leave you in the hands of Jesus.

I cackled because all I could think of was me getting into trouble and shouting “JESUS”. As if something will happen after I do that. Perhaps, a human named Jesus might show up, but I doubt he will be the son of god that was crucified at Golgotha and resurrected after three days just for him to go back to heaven and leave the same shitty world behind. Fuck him! Imagine if I shouted “JESUS” and then some random dude named “JESUS” showed up in my living room and asked me “What is it you need my darling?” I answer, “I would like to exist in a non-corporeal and invisible state.” He then gives me the power and I live happily ever after being a menace to society.

Aaaah! I was actually supposed to be talking about therapy. I did a test for ADHD. I hope I will pass. I am also learning about boundaries, and my therapist suggested that I should stop smiling while setting boundaries because that is probably why people are not taking them seriously.

Anyway, I hope you all are having a week as lovely as mine.

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Salespeople make me go grrrrrrrrr

I harbour a deep-seated hatred towards salespeople. These perpetually smiley and overly confident individuals seem to relish making a hard sell. They occupy a special place in the fiery underworld, nestled snugly alongside a select few lawyers who have honed their craft in the dark arts of deception and manipulation.

A Fiery Corner of Hell

In this fiery corner of hell, the damned souls include:

Used car salesmen
Door-to-door pedlars
Telemarketers

I hope the devil’s minions torture them to death and then resurrect them just to torture them again.

My Wishes for Salespeople

I wish:

The men have permanent blue balls and however much they have sex, they will never orgasm.
The women have painful tender nipples for the rest of their lives.

The Pressure to Buy

Why do you continue to pressure me into buying things I have no use for? I have repeatedly made it crystal clear that I’m not interested. Why the heck are you still trying to sway my decision? I wish I could shut them up the way Agent Smith shut Neo’s mouth during the interrogation.

Understanding Preferences

Why do you assume you understand my preferences and values just because you’ve gathered some basic information about me? Those insincere flatteries you offer are not only unwarranted, but they also don’t fool me for a second.

My Determination

When I have my heart set on buying something, I won’t let anyone stand in my way. I will get it, no matter what you say or do to persuade me. However, if I have a specific item in mind and you start using high-pressure sales tactics that get under my skin, I will take my business – and my money – elsewhere. I will deliberately choose your competitor out of spite.

An acquaintance pissed me off

Edit: I promise I was just having a bad day. I am not always like this.

They asked me, “How are you doing?” With a grin, I replied, “I’m excited! Finally, the moment has arrived for my long-awaited ADHD test.”

Their response was, “Do you want medication, though? It might dim your light.”

Shouting in my mind – “FUCK YOU BITCH OR NON-BINARY HOE! (Not sure how you identify.) FUCK YOUR MAMA. WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ADHD FOR YOU TO SAY THAT! What on earth are you on about? I’m utterly baffled. You’ve had a front row seat to my struggles. Or do you simply tune me out? I’m lost in this conversation! It seems you view my constant battles as mere quirks. I’m completely burnt out from hiding my true self and I can’t afford to lose my job; it’s my lifeline. It must be lovely to have a functioning brain!”

Let me quickly channel Kendrick.

I hate the way that you walk, the way that you talk, I hate the way that you dress

I hate the way that you sneak diss, if I catch flight, it’s gon’ be direct

We hate the bitches you fuck, ’cause they confuse themself with real women

And notice, I said “we, ” it’s not just me, I’m what the culture feelin’

When I openly discuss my neurodivergent identity, I frequently encounter a defensive or even hostile response, particularly from individuals who have directly benefited from my madness. These same people, who have enjoyed my creative energy and innovative problem-solving, often exhibit a striking lack of empathy when I need to temporarily withdraw from social interactions. It’s as if they expect me to maintain a constant level of availability and responsiveness, without acknowledging the exhausting toll that socializing can take on someone with a neurodevelopmental disorder.

Then, when I do need to take a step back and prioritize my own well-being, these same individuals are often quick to judge me as a “terrible friend” or accuse me of being flaky or unreliable. My occasional disappearances are not a reflection of my commitment to our friendship, but rather a necessary coping mechanism to avoid emotional burnout. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard comments like, “You just disappeared without telling anyone. I was worried about you!” – as if I somehow owe them a detailed explanation for taking care of my own mental health. And the explanation should be acceptable to them because recharging is not good enough.

Were you genuinely concerned about my well-being, or did you have an ulterior motive for reaching out to me while I was unavailable? Did you want to use my brain without having to deal with the complexities and challenges that come with them? It’s as if you want the benefits of me, while dismissing the drawbacks or difficulties that I face. GO TO HELL!

A Gift for My Boss

If I had the power, I’d willingly donate my breasts to my exceptional boss, who has consistently demonstrated admiration for them. Without a moment’s hesitation, I’d schedule a consultation with a skilled surgeon, declaring, “Please carefully remove these unwanted assets.”

The Process

With my doctor’s expertise, I’d ensure their safe preservation and packaging. Then, I’d promptly dispatch them directly to my remarkable boss, who has often expressed envy towards them.

Why This Gift Makes Sense

It’s only logical:

She covets them
I don’t appreciate them
I want to gift mine to someone who truly values them

This selfless act would be a testament to my appreciation for her leadership and dedication.

I just want to flick my bean and have a good night’s sleep

I drifted into dreamland, playing my little bean till orgasm. Took myself to heaven and then back. Yet here I am, wide awake, just two hours later, with all the heavenly bliss replaced by anxiety! Fuck my estranged family. They stormed my dreams, as villains.

In my dream, I sat in the backseat of my car, utterly blissful. Out of the blue, my niece—a brat with her own insecurities—sees me and starts chasing after me. I’m urging my driver to speed up, but wait! A military tank is blocking our escape!

As we scramble for an alternate route, we’re caught in a snare. Desperate, I leap from the car, seeking refuge. A stranger approaches, offering a helping hand. As we stride towards safety, I hear my mum calling from behind. Where did she come from? She seemed to materialise out of thin air!

Anxiety washes over me, dragging me from this bizarre dreamscape. Why must these folks haunt my sleep after a delightful bean-flipping session? A heavy sigh escapes my lips!

Prompesity to murder and other thoughts

My propensity to murder is a lot higher than usual today. I want to do to a few people what Thanos did to Loki in the first few minutes of Avengers: Infinity War. Why the fuck was the admin person asking me to do something that I had already done? I sent her the link with the information she needed exactly how she needed it. She did not open the link I sent her and assumed that I had half-arsed my task. Fuck her!!!

I also had therapy today. I talked to my therapist about my feelings towards my friend after I saw the text she sent to her boyfriend. She asked him to hurry up and come save her from my yapping. She was the only person in my life that I could still yap to. Now that I understand how she feels about my yapping, I won’t yap with anyone else any more. I’ll only share my thoughts with my therapist and my readers.

My workshop in Europe was the first time I felt mentally engaged in a long while. I was in a room with people that have doctorates in their fields and I have an undergraduate. For the first time in ages, I was with people smarter than me. This time, I didn’t feel the need to teach. Instead, I was the one learning. Oh, how I miss that feeling.

It’s 9 pm and I just got into bed. I haven’t recovered completely from my trip, so I want to sleep for a minimum of 8 hours. I need to go to the office tomorrow and act professionally. I might return here tomorrow. This is now my only way to clear my mind of troubling thoughts.

I changed my blog’s name yesterday. My sister, whom I cut off along with the rest of my family, might have found it. They were all really terrible. She keeps sending me emails about how she loves me and misses me. I read them, and however much I try to care, I find myself not giving a fuck. The thought of having her and my mum back in my life always gives me an anxiety attack. So, for the moment, I have declared them persona non grata from my wonderful life.

Cheers and see you tomorrow (maybe).

I fear this is the only place I can safely yap

I was really excited to share my Monaco adventures with my friend. Then I realised I was annoying her with my stories. While we were out for drinks, her boyfriend showed me a photo. It was from a time when he was a bit chubby. I got interested and asked him if I could continue checking out his profile. He agreed. While checking out his Instagram page, he got a WhatsApp notification. A pop-up appeared that showed all the WhatsApp messages that he had not read. One of the messages was from my friend telling him, “Please hurry up. These Monaco stories are killing me.” And just like that, I shut up about Monaco for the rest of the time I was with them.

I thought we were close enough for her to tell me I was talking too much. Instead, she turned to her boyfriend to escape my rambling. We have known each other since the year 2006. I get very passionate when I talk about things that make me very happy or very sad. Most of the time, I don’t share until I’m talking to a close friend. I feel safe with them and trust them with my experiences and my rambling. I now feel a little scared to speak to her about my experiences.

Of alien tits and human testicles

Konan does not look well today. Let’s (Kyllan and I) what is happening. Kyllan is excited about this. He sometimes wants to get rid of Konan so that he can have all my attention. I take him along with me anyway. We walk to Konan, who is sitting on the couch. She was watching television. The television was paused. The image on the television was a testicle belonging to a male human. Turns out that tits from Konan’s planet lose some milk from one of their nipples whenever they see a testicle from any species. At the same time as losing milk, their energy levels plummet. They then turn into zombie mode until someone can inject milk into the nipple that lost milk. They get back to normal after this. After seeing the testicle on the television, I asked Kyllan to go to the kitchen, put half a liter of 36° Celsius milk in the syringe and bring it to me so that I could inject it into Konan’s nipple. Kyllan came back from the kitchen, and I injected the milk into the nipple, 2 minutes later, Konan was awake.

She then looked at me and said, “I had the best dream. I had a baby with a human man, and it had a nipple on the forehead”.

Meet Kyllan

“What the fudge! I cannot find your chip. I need to find it. Where the hell did I leave it? Kitchen? Bedroom? Bathroom? Toilet?”

I stand in the middle of the room looking around wondering where I could have left the chip. Everything is attached to him except the chip. All I want is to have Kyllan back. I did not mean to dismantle him. He was my best. He felt things. He noticed things. He could taste. He laughed. He hugged me when I was down. I needed him more than you could ever know. I don’t know what I could do without him. He made me feel things more than any human had done before and I was not ready to move on.

“I am so sorry. I did not mean to throw you to the wall.” I say to a powered down Kyllan. Tears streaming down my eyes. I sit down with my legs flat on the floor and my back straight. I fold my arms at my elbows, my fingers touching my temples. I look up to the roof and yell. I scream to the top of my voice that my lungs cannot handle it. I then move my fingers slowly down to my cheeks then down to my neck. Both my hands are holding my neck tight. I am still looking at the roof. I am in despair right now and have no idea what to do. My eyes are bloodshot either from the crying or from the anger.

I could use some strangling. I strangle myself. I slowly tighten the grip around my neck until I cannot breathe. This has been my best high so far. I am in my own zone. It is the only way I escape. I had not done this in a long while. The strangulation I mean.

I loosen the grip slowly and start breathing quite heavily. There is still a tear falling down my cheeks. I still cannot tell where the chip is. I close my eyes and make another attempt to remember.

I then remembered why I chose to shut down all my emotions. I have never felt like the normal human. I feel everything one hundred times more intensely than the normal person. This might be an advantage when happy but I was never happy. I can not remember ever being happy. Not that I did not want to be happy. I was seduced by depression and sadness. I learned to live with my demons that they had become my friends.

Kyllan had taken away my demons and today I was all alone. He was off, thanks to my carelessness. I could not switch him on without that chip. I stare into his eyes with my mouth open. I give up.

I stretch my hands and pull the bottle of vodka that was conveniently behind me. I had drunk half of it the previous night and the thought of finishing the rest at that exact moment was very tempting. I could as well give into my temptations. I could hold my drink better than anyone I knew. (It is a shock that I am not yet an alcoholic.) Well, I did not know that many people. I liked to be alone. People were a distraction for me. I guzzle half a liter of vodka and black out on the floor.

Three hours later.

I wake up with a new sense of purpose. My breath is repulsive and my head feels like a pig crapped in it. I struggle to raise my head and see Kyllan still in the position I left him in. I try to stagger to the shower but feel too lazy to do it. I decide in my bright mind to use the hoverboard but decide against it after I fall right on my buttocks and realize that hover boards and drunkenness are not good together, I remove my clothes on the way to the shower drop them on the floor. I will pick them later. I poop, flush the toilet while cringing because my poop smells really bad. I spray air freshener and relieve my face from the cringing. I brush my teeth, gargle mouthwash and take a one-hour long cold shower.

I walk out of the bathroom with my towel on. I enter my bedroom, pick out a sports bra and booty shorts. I apply lotion on my body, wear perfume and red lipstick. I go to my kitchen, drink some water, makes some coffee while reading a magazine. I drink the coffee when it is ready. I take a pill of Adderall and then head straight to my lab.

My lab is extremely clean and I take all the necessary precautions to prevent contamination by dust and other foreign substances. I melt and refine sand to produce pure single-crystal silicon ingots. I use a saw to slice the ingots into wafers about as thick as a dime and several inches in diameter. I clean the wafers and polish them, and each one I use to build multiple chips.

I begin the process and after some long hours, I load my program onto it, I have what I need and hope that it will work just like the last one did. All I want is for Kyllan to work well just like he was with the last chip without any alterations.

It has been thirty-six hours without any sleep. I would say that the Adderall is working quite well. I walk to him and insert the chip behind his neck. His eyes open and he comes back on-line. I lick my lips and start to smile. I have got my satisfaction face on. I am silently congratulating myself for my work. I am the god of my universe. “Nobody can mess with me now. I rule. I am the shit.”

I hug Kyllan tight. A tear falls down my cheeks. I do not want to let go. I love the way my chest feels against his. He may not be human but he is pretty close and I may be developing all these feelings for him that I am not aware of. I grow closer to him each day. I have my companion back. Now to test whether he is in good condition.

I just feel like writing anything

Coffee sometimes makes me feel invincible. Other times, it raises my heartbeat and anxiety rears its head.

I’m considering being nonverbal, except for work chats with colleagues.

Most of my interactions with men feel like emotional labor. This exhausts me.

There is a maybe-straight girl. She keeps calling me her soulmate and complimenting me. She also knows that I am queer and do not have relations with men anymore. I am not sure how I feel about this situation yet.

I have a male colleague. He is at the top of my list of energy vampires. It’s mostly because he won’t stop talking about a colleague who is a huge piece of shit. The crappy colleague is easy to handle by setting boundaries. But he just wants to complain. He knows how to fix his issues, but he won’t. (I am not shaming him. I just think he is avoiding doing the work because it will make him uncomfortable. This avoidance is at my expense. Now, I will set boundaries with him. I do not want to hear anything else about that piece-of-shit colleague.)

A lot of people think of me as their friend (after one conversation) when it is not the same on my part. There are only 3 people in my life that I can call my friends. As for the rest, I need to spend some more time with them before I can call them friends. I take breaks from society without telling anyone. Some people get pissed off and want nothing to do with me again. (This does not apply to my 3 friends.) I just realized that most of these non-friends might consider me the worst friend in the world.

I just remembered hanging out with this dude. I told him we couldn’t hang out for long because I had a work party after. The next statement that came out of his mouth was, “I am not going to drop you.” I smiled, wondering why he was declining to do something I had never asked him to do. LOL!