Neko

So. I'm back. I don't really know why I was gone for so long. In my time away I wrote some journal entries elsewhere (which I ported over), I went to three concerts (all for the same band), I went on a plane for the first time, and I put a lot of stickers on my belongings. It's been alright. I don't really have much else to say right now.

It's around 2am now. I've been staying up and waking up later the last week or two. I think I got up around noon today. If you haven't guessed, my sleep schedule is slipping because I quit my job at the very end of November. It was amazing. I feel better than I have in a while. I'm worried that this feeling can't last much longer. I told myself that I'd give myself December off as a break from the rat race to recuperate before selling myself to another company that doesn't give a shit about me or any other workers.
During my last week, one of my coworkers asked in a roundabout manner if the managers were bullying me. Technically yes, they were, but that was all things others have thought before. That I'm naive and off in my own world. What was really troubling to me, though, was how these managers would speak about other employees. It seemed they had something cruel to say about every single person who worked at the store.
I don't want to think of that place anymore. Over the last half-month, I've rarely left my apartment. It's been kind of nice, actually. However, it makes it clear how isolated I am. I don't have anyone to talk to. My friends hardly respond to me and they never text first. My sibling has been out of the state visiting family and he is too busy to text me as often. I miss him dearly. I wish I could convey to him exactly how much he means to me.
I've read a couple books about autism lately, both out of curiosity and to try to silence my impostor syndrome, and there's something that keeps upsetting me. Every time it seems, in every book, there's a section mentioning how wonderful the internet is, how it allows anyone that deviates from the norm to find a community that they might not have in real life. And it's wonderful, but I'm jealous. I struggle to speak to people in real life, and I struggle just as much to talk to people online. I might be able to push myself to join an online group, but chances are I never interact with anyone there.
I think this is why I keep making online diaries. I desperately want to connect with someone, and maybe I think it'll be easier if I put this all out there and have someone find me.
I'm pathetic.

Work today was awful. Looking back on it, nothing bad really happened, but it felt like a million grains of sand that still added up to enough weight to hurt. Too many argumentative customers and people ignoring me and register issues and complete lack of help, I guess. One encounter that really upset me was a guy complaining about the fact that we had camel meat stocked in the freezers. He asked me if I knew that we had camel meat, I calmly told him yes, and he acted even more shocked that I wasn't disgusted. I told him that meat is meat, and food is food, and he literally told me that he disagrees with that. Maybe it's just a me thing, but I would try camel meat. I'd even try more taboo stuff, like dog or even human meat. I don't know why so many customers freak out about it, are they just incredibly xenophobic?
Unrelated to work, I keep thinking about upsetting past experiences. The arcade trip for my 18th birthday that everyone canceled on, the fact that I have missed out on so many childhood/school events. I have never been invited to a slumber party, or a classmate's birthday party. The only parties I've been to are for cousins', which every single other cousin was always invited so it doesn't mean much. I didn't go to Prom because I didn't have a date, I didn't go to my high school's post-graduation party because I knew I would have sat alone all night, I never went to another person's house to work on school projects. All I want is to be a normal person. All I want is to be just like everyone else and get to do the same things. Why do I feel like my existence is punishment for a crime that I am unaware that I even committed? Why can't I just be like everyone else?

Or, last Wednesday was my birthday. I'm 21 now. I never believed that I'd live this long. Not many people wished me a happy birthday this year. My mom, dad, and nana all did, and I got two emails, but that was it. Nothing from my siblings and nothing from my friends. My friends never remember my birthday. I don't think they even know when it is.
November 20th is also the birthday of a girl I used to know named Sequoyah. I used to work with her and during that time I think I fell in love. She had a boyfriend who was a creep and I'd always threaten to beat him up for her. Maybe I thought that I could show her that I was something worthwhile. It's animal behavior.
Back to my birthday, the last time I actually tried to do something major for my birthday was around 3 years ago when I turned 18. I invited a couple of people to an arcade in town: Sequoyah, an old friend of mine named Ashley, and a work friend named Ali. Everyone cancelled on me. Ashley was in a theater performance that night and she wouldn't get out in time to meet us. Ali had car troubles during that week and her car broke down that morning. And Sequoyah's family took her out for a surprise birthday dinner. She's the only one who knew it was my birthday.
This year, I got a switch game from my dad and some cash from my mom, which I used to buy a steam gift card and got two more games. I haven't played any of the games yet unfortunately. I've been busy playing games I already own or watching tv or coloring. I also drank alcohol for the first time last week. I got a 50ml bottle of jagermeister from my dad, which was really gross tasting. Then, that weekend, I bought some strawberry wine, which was okay. It tastes like an unripe strawberry.

Sometime back in September I decided that I was going to quit my job because I fucking hate the managers here.
Now it's November and the time I scheduled to turn my two week notice in is two days away. I don't want to stay here but I'm so fucking scared of any alternative. Yesterday I filled out a resume and spent some time looking at jobs on indeed and it made me feel so anxious that I felt suicidal. Don't worry though, I'm not going to kill myself. I just want out of this rat race and I'm afraid to put myself back in another. I don't have the guts to follow through with a plan to hurt myself.
When I started my current job, I was a quivering mess who barely spoke to strangers and was barely audible. I pulled through, but years later one of my managers cheerfully recounted how she thought that I wouldn't make it, that only the hiring manager had faith in me. She didn't mean to be cruel, but now I worry that something similar will happen again. What if I have an interview and they decide that I'm so incompetent and worthless that I get blacklisted from jobs all across town? ...I know that thought's a stupid one. My sibling got mad at me for saying it because it was so grossly unrealistic. But I can't make my brain stop running it on repeat, constantly running bad thoughts through my head. I feel so much more scared than when I moved. Then I still had a safety net up, I was in no risk of homelessness if I couldn't find an apartment. Who knows what could happen if I can't find a job?
I'm scared. I feel sick.

For most, if not all, of my life, I've always felt different from everyone around me. In elementary school, I had about one friend at a time (two friends in total). I didn't play with the other kids very often, usually just playing with my own toys or sitting on the swings for all of recess. I remember feeling like I was encased in a glass box, like the other students couldn't fully interact with me and I couldn't fully interact with them. At first it didn't really bother me; I remember filling out a questionnaire at the doctor's that asked if I'd rather hang out with friends (which was a 1) or family (which was a 5). My answer was a solid 3, and my straightforward reasoning was that I was not allowed to have friends over. (Much to my chagrin, the doctor did not ask me for my reasoning. She asked my mother. In front of me.) I had one friend at the time, and I eventually stopped talking to her before fifth grade because my mother didn't trust her parents.
By middle school, I was painfully lonely and the glass box only felt thicker. I was in different classes than the one friend I made in fifth grade, so I didn't know anyone. Within the first few weeks, everyone else had fallen into groups, formed alliances and friendships, but I was too nervous to speak to anyone if I didn't have to. By the time I had warmed up enough to want to jump in, it was already late in the school year. I was too late to do anything. I had an embarrassing phase here where I thought of myself as not like the other girls-which technically was true, in a different manner. I felt so different from everyone else, so disgusting, that I wanted to convince myself that I was better for being unlike other girls. I didn't like makeup, I only liked formless clothes, I didn't know a single popular celebrity, I didn't experience a single crush, and I didn't use any social media. Those are all still mostly true, but it doesn't give me any superiority. I think I just wanted to feel like I wasn't an outcast, that I was on the outside of the herd because I chose to be. It didn't help much.
By high school my feelings had morphed into a greater self-loathing. If I was different than my peers, if I couldn't fit in, then that meant there must be some kind of fault with me, personally. I found myself feeling like I wasn't a person-I still had flesh, bones, organs, all the other physical parts everyone else had, but there was one tiny piece that was so small that I couldn't tell that I was missing it, but everyone else could. I felt inherently unlikeable. I still do. I wanted to be able to peel myself apart (or let someone else take a shot at it) and strip cloth from flesh, flesh from muscle, muscle from bone, remove every part of me to find wherever that difference lay.
I just wish I was happy. I wish I could make friends.

I think I've mentioned before here that I work as a cashier, and the absolute part has to be the people. Customers are always a grab bag. Who will come in today, the nice woman who always calls me dear, or the older man who asks if I'm always like that when I refuse to smile when he tells me to. Who will stop in my line, the old woman who always interrupts me and repeats instructions to me like I didn't hear her the first time, or the young woman who buys armfuls of energy drinks and told me that I'm cool? Who will talk to me, the old man who dated a teenager when he was 40-ish or the grown man who said my sister was attractive when she was underage at the time? Thankfully I'm only on register once or twice a week. I don't know how I was able to handle being on register full time before.
While I dislike a lot of customers, I dislike my managers so much more. Today, the store manager, Shane, was complaining about his sister, who seems to be the kind of person where she sees her issues as so much bigger than yours, even if they're both equal. She was talking about her daughter being bullied at school, and Shane said that obviously she's being bullied, his niece has large braces and looks like a boy. Maybe it's just me, but that feels like an awful thing to say.
Another manager, April, said last week that if a cat runs across the road she doesn't try to brake or swerve or anything. Does she try to avoid "pest" animals, like raccoons and opossums and rabbits?
There's definitely more but Jesus fucking Christ I hate these people.

I went to Crumbl Cookies yesterday because they had some flavors I wanted to try. I got a confetti cookie, a butter cake cookie, and a pink velvet cookie. My thoughts...

I have now had my own place for one week! It's been... a lot less stressful than I expected. It's a lot better than it was at home. I have space for my things, I can be by myself if I want to be, I don't get bullied or harassed, I don't have to hear anyone else argue or fight or insult each other... this is the life! On the other hand, I struggle with keeping regular mealtimes, as I don't feel hungry until I'm absolutely famished, and I'm not used to being alone like this. It's so quiet. I miss everyone.
On a more positive note, I had my friends Haley and Ashley visit yesterday! Ashley cut our hair; Haley just got a trim while I went for a full buzzcut. It goes hard. I had to work today and was afraid that people would comment on it, but no one said anything bad! Well, Ashley said I look like a little boy, but I've already heard that. Next, we had dinner and played some jackbox games. Together we ate 2 large pizzas and played Earwax, Trivia Murder Party 2, Role Models, and Tee K.O. Like usual, I won both TMP games we played. Role Models and Tee K.O. went really well; those are both really good games.
After they left, I did a little more soul searching. I've always wanted to be in love, but I don't think I've every seriously felt anything. I remember having crushes in elementary school where I'd like a boy, he'd do something mildly annoying at best, and my crush would immediately die off. Another two crushes were on people completely unavailable to me; a student teacher years older than me, and a coworker who had a boyfriend (that she didn't like) while she had a crush on another guy. I've had people like me or flirt with me, and I either didn't notice at the moment or I just felt incredibly uncomfortable. At this point, I think I'm probably aromantic, if not aroace.

As of today, there are six days until I move. I finished packing up boxes earlier. I figured it would take longer, but I guess I don't have that much stuff. Well, technically I haven't packed up clothes yet because I still obviously need those.
I'm still worried about moving out. I'm used to being lonely, but not used to being alone.

First, I had a doctor's appointment today to report how my antidepressants were treating me. I don't really feel much different. Maybe a little better than before, but nothing noteable enough to put my finger on. The doctor went ahead and increased my dosage, so we'll see how I feel in a couple weeks.
Second, I have my own apartment now! Or rather I will have my own apartment in one month. I'm very nervous about it. I don't feel prepared. I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. I'm scared.
Third, on a completely different track, I had a PE class in ninth grade where we were required to change clothes before class started. I chose the locker on the far side of the room, away from all of the other girls. I was afraid of them. I was very self-conscious at the time and I thought that they would think I was fat or hairy or gross and hate me for it. I didn't let myself look at anyone else because I was afraid that I would linger for too long and get ridiculed or called a creep. The only thing that made that locker room bareable was my best friend, who had the locker right next to mine.

My given first and middle name are very feminine. They're both nice names, but unfortunately they just aren't me. I don't know exactly when I picked up the name Pendleton for myself, but I know how I felt when I found it. Everything felt like it clicked into place.
Before Pen, there was a couple of other names though: Apollo, Toby, Percy. All nice names, but they didn't stick. I've went through a similar process with my middle name. For a while I wanted to make my initials PVC, so I picked out either Victor or Vincent for a middle name, but those both fell through.
And then I found it. I got that same clicking feeling, but this time I feel pissed off about it because it fits. It's lame and nerdy-but then again, when am I not lame and nerdy? ...Don't answer that.
Anyways. It's nice to meet you. My name is Pendleton Herbert Martin.

First things first. Re-Animator was good and Bride of Re-Animator was a little stupid, but I liked it too. Now here's where my problems lie: the Bride was cool as hell and deserved to be more important in the movie. For fuck's sake, Herbert spends the whole movie practically begging Dan to help him build her, and then when she 'wakes' he doesn't give a damn! Okay, so maybe there was a bigger issue at hand, like the zombies trying to break in, but what he accomplished was a scienentific marvel! Unlike the other reanimated corpses, she had her own will and could speak full, coherent sentences. She was full of love for a man that didn't care about her, and when she learned of this, she grieved and ripped herself apart. She was full of potential, unfortunately wasted. I feel like there's something to say about how the Bride was made with the parts of two women Dan loved, Meg's heart and Gloria's face, yet he didn't want the Bride because of her body. I don't have it worked out completely yet, hopefully I can come back with more.
Also what was up with her weird little chastity belt thing.

Oh crap I forgot about this uh- Anyways. How has everyone been. I've been okay I guess. I started antidepressants about a month ago and I feel... pretty much the same? But different? It's weird. I don't hate myself as much, so I guess I feel antidepressed? I'm probably going to the mall later, because I really need new shorts. I only have 2 pairs at the moment and they're both starting to get holes in them. I'm super hungry right now, so I should probably end here and go get lunch.

I have been busy at work all week and next week will probably be just as, if not more, busy. I still have discount signs from Monday that still need to be hung up, and I don't know if I'll have the time tomorrow. The new ad started today, which meant that I needed to hang the ad signs, but I also had to pull all the old signs because everyone forgot to yesterday. Ugh. At least I'm home now, I guess.

Staring at my computer all day is going to give me a headache sooner or later, but I don't want to do anything else.
I ate a double-chocolate muffin earlier, and it did not taste like chocolate. It tasted like pepper. Fucked up.

Working on the site again, and it looks kinda good! My only issue now is that I can see that I've had visitors...
Who are you? I'm curious! I wanna know you!

Today I have a dentist appointment. I don't want to go because I don't want to deal with other people.
I've been feeling pretty bad lately, I think. Nights make me miserable, and days feel empty and hollow. Nothing seems interesting and it takes a while to force myself to do anything I should like, like playing games or working on my site.
I haven't done much today. I've sat around listening to music a lot, I took a shower, and now I'm here. I should probably go and eat lunch. Ten minutes, then I'll go and eat lunch.

Somehow, time slipped away and now it's almost 1AM. I'm supposed to be waiting for someone on Animal Crossing: New Leaf, so I might as well stay up.
I've spent most of my weekend listening to the same album on repeat. Somewhere in the Between is just a really good album and Streetlight Manifesto is just a really good band.
It's a bit of old news now, but recently both Bug and Johnny have said things about me potentially being autistic. Apparently both of them are autistic, so I trust their opinions. Honestly, though, I'm not entirely sure what to think about it. On one hand, I suppose it makes sense. It would explain a lot. Bug says that autism and anxiety and depression are typically comorbid, while Johnny says that he can see it in some of the things he remembers from me. On the other hand, it makes me feel like my awful thoughts have been right, that there has been something wrong with me this whole time and it was entirely obvious to everyone else. It also makes me feel very angry. Maybe if someone said something sooner, I wouldn't fucking struggle with myself like I do. I've been meaning to do research, but I keep putting it off.
I'm so tired right now that I keep trembling.