Tired of false assumptions, projections, and flawed worldviews — tired of patriarchy, misogyny, misrepresentations, malice, arrogance, duplicity, and needless snark. Tired of finding myself caught in vicious cycles. Tired of a world that sometimes drains me, so I naturally retreat within. Tired of judgmental attitudes. Tired of jealous people. Tired of manipulation. Tired of toxicity. Tired of obsessions about aging. Tired of pathologising our differences. Tired of neurotic tendencies. Tired of inauthentic friendships. Tired of feeling expected to feign constant enthusiasm — joy, passion, care, even empathy for those who seem wicked. Tired of the quiet seep of others’ insecurities and projections into my mind. Tired of being judged for embracing my disenchantment. Tired of double meanings. Tired of ignoring the imminent necessity for a chemical dependency. Tired of being perceived. Tired of being misperceived. Tired of caring about being misperceived to the point of extreme self-censorship. Tired of succumbing to the impulse of being authentic and regretting it. Tired of dissecting everything I say from dozens of shifting perspectives. Tired of noticing everyone’s blind spots. Tired of both encountering misanthropic attitudes and, at times, harbouring them myself. I know I’m not immune — I sometimes quietly slip into misanthropy, and I’m learning to accept that shadow side as part of who I am. Tired of thinking in rigid binaries. And no, this isn’t what a mental health breakdown looks like for me. When I sense myself beginning to spiral, I tend to freeze, finding it difficult to update my personal social media channels or engage much at all.

[This is an older blog post. Unfortunately, I don’t remember the date.]