This Is Where I Rot - 21.09.2025

These are the bits of me I don’t say out loud. Some of them make no sense. Also TW

*just in advance. I have no idea what I am doing I am just blurting out the random non-sense that is in my mind and is eating me up alive from the inside. Also English is not my first language so grammatical errors are for sure present. Also I have no idea if this is something I will do regularly*
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21.09.2025

So, where do we begin. Let me just say it out loud: "I did not plan this". This will be a reoccouring phrase in this ?draft/novel/word-vomit"?, I don't even know how to call whatever this is that I am doing. I fell like I am at an all time low right now.
Yea, now that you read that of course you are thinking that just an other whining asshole that is using the internt to make others feel sorry for them. Listen, think what you think, but currently this is where I see some hope right now.

So, I am a person that like planning every many aspects of their life. A couple of months ago I was planning my wedding, I was on top of my game at my job, everything was *Marvelous*. Oh, so this is just an other example of someone having a perfect life in a suburban home with the green lawn. It was never like that, of course I had ome bullshit moments, but the good moments had much more strength, than the bad ones.

If I rewind a couple of months backwards, it was all just fine. Had a "boyfriend" (also a reoccoruing topic for later) with whom I was quite happy. Also, during the concert of Adele on the 23rd of Aug 2024 I texted him how fucking happy I am that I chose to stay and found him, and also my life is kinda complete with him beside me. Plot twist, we broke up exactly one year ago of that night/event. Well, fuck me in the ass, but that was something I felt coming after we had our holiday, where we both felt, that this is just something that would not work well.

But let's kind of go in order. So after the Adele concert, life was OK. apart from the astronomically strong post-concert depresssion, things were going well. eating out, going on our silly little dates. You know it was one of those things, where you just don't go with the flow. For Christmas he also got me gifts that just were *perfect*, or at least were meant for me, not just these random ass gift shop bullshits. My mother actually got us matching pajamas. (none of us actually wore those) Oh yea BTW, we never slept at each others place, smh

So anyways, after Christmas is where things just happened, like shit just got thrown into the fan, you know what I mean. This stupid ass man (me), believed 12 motherfucking grapes would marry my boyfriend, and other bullshit that I wished for. Half of them I dont even remember.

Around this time we agreed to go see Dua Lipa so I bought the tickets and went on with our daily duties.

So, January rolls around, I am starting to gain weight. I am allowed right? I have a man, I got a job, I can. Welp, I thought. Also randomly found out that one of my new colleagues is someone I hooked up with in the past during a drunk night out. Welp, fuck.
February is the month I am starting to question if my current boyfriend is for real. Like you know, if I really love him, or I just love the feeling of having someone.

March is where it is no longer just shit that is vomitting back at my face, but straight up diarrhea. I am training my new colleagues, and just suddenly have this feeling of a big ass know in my stomach. Welp, let's go throw the fuck up in the bathroom. I brush it off, get back to work, this is also a day where I fight with this colleague that I have hooked up with in the past.

Well the next day I just keep throwing the fuck up. Welp, it is just stress right? Maybe, let's just skip a meal and go on with my day. Wrong, I keep throwing up numerous times a day. Even if I drink water, I just vomit. let's go see the doctor. FML that was a bad idea. Also here is a lil' detail that will play into this also a lot, in the past I had panic attacks. didn't have one for a while now, and can also manage them quite well. So my doctor immediately jumps to the conclusion that this is just a panic attack. Well, 7 of them a day for the last 1.5 weeks? don't think so. So what did this bitch do, just started to skip meals, or not eat for a day. BF is kinda worried about me *aww moment*. So I go back a couple of days later. Gives me a shot that temporarily blinds me *cute*. So I get mad AF, and go to a private clinic to get some bloodwork done. YAAYYY I get the results that I am insulin resistance and histamine intolerance and basically allergic/intolerant to half of a god damn grocery store. YAYYYY. At least I am not celiac. So I keep throwing the fuck up and loose like 20 kilos. May rolls around, yayyy it is my birthday, we are in a random Tesco parking lot in my car, with me holding back my stomach acid, since I ate basically nothing for the past days. The higlight of the day, as soon as I was about to kiss him, the pope gets elected. WOOOOOOOW. so fast forward a week, I pulled myself together, changed my diet and started working out a little to help with my stomach problems, it kinda did work. If I slept well and have taken good care of myself I was good.

So we get in my car and go to see Dua Lipa, now I was the one that was OK, and now he had stomach problems, so he basically was in pain/discomfort for the entirety of the concert. Here is also a cliché moment. You know the song Houdini? It basically is a song of ghosting right? Catch me or a go houdini. When I got my new car I promised him I would turn on the radio, only whe he gets in the car. so the morning I picked up my car, I turned off the radio and went to pick him up, he got in the car, turned on the radio and the first song that played.... *drum roll* HOUDINI. Bitch, I belted that song on top of my lungs soooo loud. Who would have thought that song would mark the end of this relationship.

Anyways, so we get home, he goes home I go home, we basically distance soo far apart it is like shouting at each other from 2 different side of the grand canyon. so I start to fall back into the old habits. In august, I take him home home, and i just have the urge to have a drink. Mind you I have not drank a drop of alcohol since March. So I drink also the second the third and the fourth night of being apart. So 23rd of Aug rolls around. I had this idea to drink Aperol Spritz and put on the concert show. So I make my fake Adele Spritzes, put on youtube and also do a little work. The song One and Only comes around, the one during which I texted last year. He texts me, and we start talking, both of us drunk. Long story short, we break up, but I still offer him to take back home on Sunday so we close this chapter in our lives. I have not cried like this for a hot minute.

You know that feeling, when you bite your inner cheek and you have to tear of that bit flesh from the insde, but then it hurts and bleeds like hell? Not sure that is a right comparison, but should work. NO, I know, when you have soooooooo many feelings you just get the chills and the world just goes on mute. That is how my 30 car ride felt like, physically there, mentally somewhere else. Like the only sure part of my life got taken away? No idea.

To be fair, we both felt it that this relationship is just, not a relationship anymore, but just a feeling of ?must?. On the other hand, after Dua I had this urge to plan my weddding, now I plan what plant to water on what day. Like this was the longest relationship I ever had, so I was sure somewhere, wow this must be it. Well it wasn't. Let me just also say, we departed peacefully, maybe if in a couple of months he reaches out if I want to go for a cup of coffee, I would maybe go. There was no hate or throwing things around, just open talking and clearing up things we wantede answers for.

So anyways we break up, we meet, I take him home, I drive home. Who basically cares? Basically no one. The next day after this break up I was in front of the board presenting my work, fighting tears and trying to not throw the fuck up. I did not plan with a break up, I did not plan lose someone that meant a lot to me.

While this is all going down, I make some new work friends, including the guy from the past hook-up. So now this hook-up guy also got diagnosed with some random problems, and I take up the group psychologist trait from the table. EVERYONE, and I mean EVERYONE around me immediately comes to me to vent, to ask for advice, basically anything. Do I get anything back? Hell to the fuck to the no.

People come to me for dating advice? The fuck? Are you out of your mind? Me? Who just broke up with someone and watches as their life is falling apart? Sure come on in you sneaky little asshole.

Now for the last couple of days I am the one that needs some advice, I get a plate of bullshit, WikiHow, how to help your friend bullshit nonsense of advice.

Fast forward to today, me and the guy that I have hooked up with go for a cup of coffee. We hang out, and in a way he listens and did actually give some advice, that includes this one. However, for the love of God I feel like I am developing feelings for him. Could this be the random hookup where my avocado underwear just flew acrosss the room or this that genuinely listens to me. AAANDD THE STOMACACHE randomly kicks in. I like hugging people I trust. He knows shit about me, so I wanted to hug him. He tells me his sode of the story, like how he is also struggling. So we hug, but for the love of god I wanted to give him a kiss on the cheeks. FFS, I am falling for him. A month after breaking up I want to whore around. Am I even whoring around if I did not kiss him, am I whore? Nah I think I am just hungry for love. Yea let's go with that. YEA, that is it, ffs I am afraid to be alone. Almost 30 and have no one beside me in bed to lay my head onto someone's chest or vice versa.

To me it is not about sex, it's more about the feelings and the moments.

So, on my way home something just clicks. I fucking hate myself, that's it. that is the constant stress and the constant stoamch bug. I am never enough. FFS, I should have gotten into porn when I was young and somewhat muscular.

Anyways, is this sooooo bad to rot from the inside? Maybe no. But right now, all this bullshit is just something that is eating me from the inside that actually is now going into my actual physical health. I know people have it much worse then me. Usually when I start blurting out what's on my mind, I end with "I could have been much worse". True it could have been much worse. MUUUCH WORSE. I could have had a life threathening diagnosis, I could have died. However, this is not what I planned. I didn't plan to get sick and leave all my fav foods out of my diet. I did not plan to break up. I did not plan to underperform at my job. Now I didd not plan to fall for someone. I did not plan to hate myself so much I get random stomachaches and get dizzy from eating a touch of cheese.

I am just asking one thing, when is my time coming? When is the time when someone chooses me first? When is the time I can go to the gym and not throw the fuck up from fear of people looking at me? When is my time to kiss someone under the mistletoe? When I my time to have matching pajamas and just do a fucking Harry Potter marathon? When is my time to finally truly be me?