Monday.

I feel like absolute shit today. I’ve been feeling this way for a few days now. I started off last week strong, then suddenly dropped off again on Wednesday after leaving the waxing spa. I guess I got triggered by the experience. Again. As per usual. Another day, another random trigger, another meltdown. It never fucking ends.

Saturday was especially bad for me. It’s like I woke up and I just felt like giving up on everything completely. Went out, drank all day, got as messed up as I possibly could, and then wandered home sometime around 2am. I thought everything would be normal. It was not.

As previously noted, my neighbor has been floating around much more than usual lately. He’s always checking in on me now. I’ve been trying to write it off because he lives next door and it’s important for me to set boundaries so as not to make things worse than they already are. Apparently he does not feel the same way, because he decided to break down the wall between us as soon as I got home.

Earlier in the evening, he was messaging me on IG about something totally random. My friend looked at it and was like, “Ohhhhh he wants you to come home right now. Go home to your man, Betsey!” I’m like… no, give me more wine, I need to be as fucked up as humanly possible right now. I don’t want to feel my feelings.

Two hours later, I finally returned home. Within five minutes of me coming in the door, I received a message from him telling me to come up to the rooftop. I decided to go against my better judgment.

I went out into the hall and discovered another neighbor had left a gigantic, ridiculous mess in the trash area. There was a whole comforter there. Both of us were like, “Wow, what happened?” So I thought… oh he just wants to share the humor of this moment.

No, no. Instead we ended up having a very difficult, extremely emotionally-charged, clearly alcohol-fueled argument that ended with him storming off the roof screaming, “You better not write about this on your fucking blog!”

I was like, “Wow, this guy really does know me way better than I thought.”

What was the nature of the argument? Oh, the usual with men. He felt I “needed some tough love” and that “sometimes you have to hear things about yourself you don’t want to hear.”

Too bad I already know all of this about myself already, and the last thing I need is some random fucking man there to mansplain it back to me.

Then he said, “I bet if I called your brother right now, he and I could talk all day about how ridiculous you are!”

My response was to send him my brother’s IG account info and say, “Go ahead and call him. I know what he will say: ‘Yes, she is difficult and messy. She’s been through a lot. But she has a good heart, she’s strong, and she put her own selfish needs aside to take care of us after our dad died. She’s doing way better than she was this time last year. Be patient with her and give her some grace.’” Truth.

There was so much more to this that I’m not going to share. He got really personal, really fast. Like, he was all up in my grill. It was so annoying!

This was when I realized that I was being yelled at because he had randomly developed a sense of concern for my wellbeing after watching my life story play out right in front of him for the last seven months. I was honestly taken completely off-guard by the entire exchange.

He literally said at the end, “This has been a very emotional journey for me.” Really? Has it been that emotional for you? Really? I had no idea you were so invested, but I guess that’s what happens when all we have between us is a paper-thin wall.

The next day I woke up pissed off at him for being a douche and proceeded to send him ALL the paragraphs. Much to my surprise, he actually apologized to me for acting like a douche, and then asked me if he could take me out on Friday to make up for it.

You know what? Sure. Let’s go. Why the fuck not? I already invited him to the 4th of July party on Saturday anyway. I’m thought I’d go for the deepest cultural exchange possible and show an uptight British-HKer how we do Freedom in America! Fuck Yeah!

The irony of all of this is not lost on me, btw. I just can’t go deeper into it here.

Anyway, now I am here, recovering from my self-destructive bender and the random argument that ensued between my neighbor and I over the fact that he’s tired of listening to me be messy.

Wild.

I cannot even.

Pretty sure I started off last week with the right dose of yoga, coffee, meditation, and motivation. Instead it just went right off the rails. Again. I can’t. It’s like I keep trying to climb that hill but I just keep falling further and further down.

It’s like… bro, I know you are right, but also… I am totally alone here. It’s not like Hong Kong is internationally known for their great mental health care. Pretty sure the suicide rate is extremely high here precisely because mental healthcare is not highly valued on a widespread cultural level.

So, yeah, it is what it is. I’m trying. I’m working on it. I’m doing the best I can. As it turns out, I was so emotionally disregulated and messed up by the time I finally escaped South Dakota that I have no sense of direction or identity or purpose anymore. I’m just floating around after a series of disasters and fuck-ups, unable to get out of the headspace I’m trapped in.

I recounted this incident to a friend of mine and she said, “Maybe he’s upset because you remind him of himself and that’s why he’s being hard on you.”

Who even knows what goes on in the male mind anymore? It’s a mystery. As far as I’m concerned, they do all their thinking with their dicks. It is what it is.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say today. I’m going to go back home, eat the salad and drink the fruit juice I forced myself to get out of bed and walk down the street for, watch some TV, and play Mah Jong until my brain sorts itself out and stops giving me endless nightmares and flashbacks.

I love Mah Jong, btw. It really is true that it’s soothing for PTSD! I read some studies on it, so I’ve started playing it whenever I feel overwhelmed. It definitely calms everything down and sorts out some of the bad feelings.

Unfortunately, it seems like every time I get through one issue, another one pops up in its place. It took me a decade and a half to finally move past being raped and assaulted, and then as soon as that stopped being the issue, all the shit with my family and the Troubled Teen Industry that I never processed started popping up.

It’s just fucking endless. It’s like being trapped in a black hole and just getting sucked further and further down. You know what they say: “No one is coming to save you!” I guess I’ve tried so hard for so long to escape that I finally surrendered to the vacuum and let it turn me into spaghetti. There’s no coming back from it now.

Okay, off for real. Have a good day!