everyone misses you
Really? This is... hard to fathom. Typical human experience of not realizing other people actually think about you and miss you and want to spend time with you. I don't know what to do; I don't like using Discord at all anymore. I've kind of thrown myself into exile since returning home. Arthur said I reminded him of Pan. Jolly shepherd of fertility and spring and music, prone to sudden frightful tempers. My equivalent of being woken up from a nap is being overstimulated and way too drunk. I haven't touched any alcohol since Pasadena. Not that I drank much prior, but now I especially see no benefit. It tastes bad and hurts my tummy, and it sometimes turns me into a very hurtful person, and I get awful hangxiety after the fact. Plus, anytime I drink the stuff, I can feel my inner child's utter disappointment permeating my conscience. Alcohol is what turned my sweet wonderful mother into an abusive witch. I don't want anything to do with it.
...
This morning, my mom said she had a dream where she kept trying to brighten my mood, but I refused and refused until she eventually gave up.
"It sounds miserable sometimes and I feel bad for you, but I see this as you needing to understand something. When you get like that, it's not a bad thing, it's you needing that time to feel things and to understand."
Yes. There's the autistic rumination, preferring repetition, attempting to make sense... The innate heaviness I carry, perhaps a result of my mother being at absolute rock bottom during the entirety of her pregnancy with me... But also, there is value to it. Trying to be upbeat and "carefree" all the time is inauthentic and often drains me more than it nourishes. No telling whether or not this will always be the case, but for as long as I can remember, this is how I've operated.
I like my alone time. I actively choose not to invite people on trips and outings because I want to pursue them alone. I like my thinking time. It exercises my imagination/cognition and provides a sense of purpose. Sometimes I sit in my sadness in order to explore it and to learn from it. Sometimes I overstay my welcome and fall into a depression, so, as with all other things, balance is key.
While in Pasadena, Arthur and Minty commented on my sudden switches of demeanor over the internet. How I'll go from my sober, proper-grammar-using, level-headed self to a goofball dipshit who can't spell a word. They said it's extra funny when this happens because of how random and out of character it is. It's fun to be random and stupid, I love to do it, but I can't do it all the time.
My different "personalities" are always conscious; I am aware of when the shifts happen and I remember all of them, and I can control them to some degree, but I don't really will them into existence. Usually it's an environmental/conversational trigger, sometimes certain pieces of art/music will put me in a certain place. My physical person reflects these changes, but it's more noticeable online because it's easier to unmask.
I like this about myself. I see it as me adopting different modes of expression and thinking. People aren't wrong about my potential as an actor, but my goodness, what a sad life that would be!