In your childhood memory is a house you can’t remember, you have no idea why you were ever there. What does it look like?

Remember that time I said I was going to engage in healthy social media practices by coming to Bluesky as my true self and seek like minded people instead of doomscrolling my FB page I never post on which is almost solely comprised of my problematic hometown?

Remembered my morning medication 5 hours late!

…ta-daaa?

I’m not convinced my words are worth adding to the well. Suffering is subjective, but my issues always seem so objectively small. It feels so wrong to feel this defeated with the circumstances I have, and somehow that makes me feel worse. An ouroborus of self loathing.

Hi Everyone. I'm Cakes, they/them. I have no idea what I'm doing but I'm trying my best.