The Pet Peeves
Things that bother me. Most are typical I think... I often question this because I think things that bother me don't bother others and vice versa. A chance to be whiny, again.
When someone doesn't reply to the thing I say but changes the topic to what they want
Hot weather
The fear of writing in a new notebook (If the first thing isn't #godtier quality, what's the point?)
My clumsiness
Shallow conversations... Actually more like conversations that don't get deeper but stay safely on the surface
Days off that fly by too quickly
People who are controlling
When I don't understand what people think or feel about me
When my mask falls and I show emotions
When I miss a social cue and offend people
Bright lights
Not processing quickly enough to have a fulfilling real-time conversation
When people make assumptions about me, my thoughts, my wants, and my needs
When I feel something is wrong but can't pinpoint what it is
Loud noises
When people gaslight me into thinking I have no right to want or need something or that something I notice is wrong. I am wrong sometimes, but it's not nice to feel dismissed so easily
Not being able to articulate or navigate situations due to how vague my instincts are
People who don't acknowledge that they could be wrong
People who whine (like me right now!)
People who make light of others' suffering
Injustice in general
Struggling to process verbal instructions in new situations
Not being able to listen to audiobooks or podcasts unless I'm knitting
When I feel scatterbrained
The stress of wanting to run away but staying to keep the peace
The fear that in the end no one cares
The fear that in the end I don't care
How easily I get tired
Forgetting half the things I need to do
Bad prose
How little I can do on some days. I can't control my days because I have to tiptoe around my limits
The distraction caused by a sleep deprivation migraine
Being interrupted when I'm thinking or focusing
When I feel a friendship is not reciprocal
We must learn how to explode! Any disease is healthier than the one provoked by a hoarded rage.
Emil Cioran
