*insert title*

(Run-on sentence alert)

A lot of times I think about what I'm writing down first, and then I do it, and then that ends up taking forever, because then I think about it too hard and then I get bored of the topic in my head and start over even though the topics still fresh, it's just that I've thought about it from every angle. You know?

Anyway, so I'm just gonna try to eliminate as much time as I can between paragraphs and sentences and thoughts and words even, and see if that helps the process at all.

I know that my circles expanded a little bit, what with new friends, new coworkers, and the likes, so I'm gonna do a quick little recap of my situation and life as it is at the moment.

My name is Dominic Romeo Molgaard. I'm twenty-one years old as of July 22nd.

Four siblings, two parents, two grandparents, two nephews, one niece. I work at the Island Resort and Casino, and have for nearly four years. I've been writing these blogs forrrrrr..... a little over two and a half years now? I think?

I just recently bought a car, I'll be getting an apartment here pretty soon, and I'll be taking off on my own. It's a huge step, we'll see how it goes and where it takes me. I'm not currently in a relationship, nor have I been. Not for lack of effort, but for... well... not going into that quite yet.

Oh, and I love writing. I like to think that I'm good at it sometimes.

Fun fact! A couple years back, circa..... 2014? 2013? One of those two. I had something going on. I never knew exactly what it was at the time. I thought it was depression at first honestly, because my SDA schooling, God bless their souls, had never, and I'm pretty sure that to this day they still haven't, covered anything mental-illness related in any capacity, in any class, in any year that I was there. So that's healthy. Get on that Wilson.

Anyway, so my life would just sometimes feel dreamy. Or like, distant. Like I was playing a first-person video game, and nothing was really all that real? Or like I was watching myself from the outside? Just kinda meaningless? It happened a lot, and it would last from whenever it started, whatever brought it on, until I went to bed, and my brain kinda did a manual reset sorta thing.

Fast forward to a couple weeks ago.

I learned something about myself from wayyyyy back then. I had been watching Bo Burnhams new Netflix special "Inside", and heard the lyric: "Googling derealization, hating what you find". Now, I had no idea what that meant, so I Googled derealization to see what I would find. Anddddddd it says this:

"Derealization is an alteration in the perception of the external world, causing sufferers to perceive it as unreal, distant, distorted or falsified. Other symptoms include feeling as though one's environment is lacking in spontaneity, emotional coloring, and depth."

Which is already pretty close to what I was thinking of, and what I had experienced. And then I found something even closer!

"Depersonalization can consist of a detachment within the self, regarding one's mind or body, or being a detached observer of oneself. Subjects feel they have changed and that the world has become vague, dreamlike, less real, lacking in significance or being outside reality while looking in", and also, "Though degrees of depersonalization and derealization can happen to anyone who is subject to temporary anxiety or stress, chronic depersonalization is more related to individuals who have experienced a severe trauma or prolonged stress/anxiety".

Which is really interesting! Because there are other things that I do that are entirely stress/anxiety based. I have a nasty habit of picking at my fingernails for example. I hate that I do it, but for whatever reason, I can't stop. I worry a lot. I'm stressed a lot. Mainly about the future, and what it holds, and what it holds for me, and what others will think of whatever it holds for me, etc.

The original point was that I found out what that feeling was. I started to veer off-course there for a moment.

Oh! Here's a fun story about younger Me. One of the chores I had growing up was burning the trash in the burn-barrel in the backyard. One hot summer day, mid-backyard-burn-barrel-burning, some wisps of flame made it out of the barrel, catching a ride on the back of a lit piece of paper. It set a little clump of grass on fire, and I freaked out. This was such an important chore! And I had practically burned the neighborhood down! Or so my little ten year old head thought. I don't know if I was actually ten... I was young though...

SOOOOO I ran inside to the kitchen and grabbed a big orange plastic cup, and filled it up with water. My sister was in the kitchen, a bit confused, and so I tried to play it cool. "It's just really hot out there... Gotta stay hydrated..." and I split, dumping this cup of water on the slightly grown cluster of flames. I didn't get all of it, and so I ran back inside for more water. "Reallly thirsty apparently *ahaha*" and I went to leave, and my sister figured it out, and I think she legit just stomped on it or something, cause apparently I didn't know that was an option.

There wasn't really all that much of a lesson in this post, but there doesn't have to be. This isn't school. This is whatever I say it is, and you're gonna like it either way. I hope.

Thanks for reading!

-Dominic Romeo

9:40 PM EST

07/25/2021