not. can't. don't.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
i went to see sandra yesterday. i told her that i am at my absolute wits end. i told her how close i am to ending it. and there was something about the way she looked at me. something about something she said. or maybe it was just that i was scared enough, i don’t know. but i went home and took a prozac.
i told her that i am terrified of taking the medicine again. i don’t want to be numb and feel nothing. but i also told her that i feel like i could kill myself on impulse at any moment. i wouldn't even think about it, i’d just do it and it would be over.
i feel like taking the prozac is selling out. it is giving in to what sandra wants and what my mother wants, but it is completely turning my back on what i want. i feel like a total failure. i feel like i should have been able to kill myself.
i don’t trust the idea of taking the medicine, i don’t want to live, i am not committed to getting better or staying alive. i don’t know if i even want to do this. in fact, i don’t really know why i am doing it, but something about the look in sandra’s eyes yesterday...i don’t know.
and i know that if my life doesn’t change, if i am stuck in that horrible apartment for the rest of my life, if i am stuck in this disgusting fat body for the rest of my life, then i don’t want to live. i would be better of just forgetting all of it and killing myself now.
fuck the animals. if it wasn’t for them, i’d be dead by now. if it wasn’t for them, i’d be able to go to festival. but they are all that i have. they are my family. they are my friends. if it wasn’t for them, i’d be completely alone.
i cannot express adequately how much i hate myself. how much i truly detest myself. and i can’t express how painful it is to live every day in this body with this mind and this ugly face. i look at other people, i watch them as they move through their lives. they all look so happy and so comfortable. i know they are not, but i cannot imagine that there is anyone else out there who is as miserable in their skin as i am.
there is a part of me that thinks that maybe i should just stop talking about how depressed i am, stop talking about how unhappy i am and how alone i am. i should just fake it and pretend that everything is ok. and then, everyone would stop worrying and probably stop thinking about me altogether. and then, when everyone was content with the idea that i am ok, then i could go. just disappear. i’d have to make it seem like i just moved away, so no one would be sad or angry. and then it would just be over.
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giving up.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
i feel like i have nothing to hold on to. nothing to look forward to. nothing to live for anymore. as much as i was scared about going back to festival, i realize that i was really looking forward to it. and now that i can’t go, i just feel completely deflated.
i realize that my life consists of living in this small apartment with my dogs and cats, waking up, cleaning up the dog shit and the pee, feeding them, going to work, coming home, cleaning up the dog shit and pee, feeding them, going to sleep and waking up to do it all over again the next day. i can’t afford to board the dogs so that i can go to festival and have a break. i had paid down my credit card by saving up money and plunking down a huge $3000 payment, only to have the credit card company cut my credit in half and leaving me with no credit at all. i was going to use that credit to pay to board the dogs and pay the cat sitter in august. but now that money is not there, and not only do i not have the credit, but i don’t have the $3000 either, meaning that i don’t have enough money each month to pay all of my bills. i’m just sinking deeper and deeper into a hole that i will never be able to climb out of.
and i supposed it’s probably better that i don’t go to festival, because i’m enormous, and i wouldn’t fit on the plane anyway. i’m sure that i will never be invited back to work. i will most definitely never ever get my ac position back. sandra suggested that i go as a festie, but what good would that be? i wouldn’t be allowed in the area where all of my friends are. i wouldn’t be able to camp or eat with them. i’d probably just sit in my tent the whole time. it’s just not the reason i even want to go in the first place.
i just feel like any hope that i had inside, any motivation that i had inside me, even though it was remote and small has just been sucked away. i just don’t have it in me to even try anymore. i just can’t do this.
i’ll never be able to move from this small apartment. i’m stuck here in the hood. i’ll never be able to afford to live somewhere with a yard for the dogs so that i don’t have to clean up the pee and shit in the kitchen all the time. i’m barely scraping by. i’ll never be able to have anything more than this. i’m never going to lose any of this weight. i’m never going to get any better. my life is irrevocably fucked up, and there just doesn’t seem like there is any point in any of this anymore.
still scared.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
things are still pretty scary. it still feels like i’m just waiting, biding my time. everything feels so uncertain and unsettled. but it’s the aloneness. that’s the hardest thing.
nothing much else to say for now.
just hanging on by a thread.
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same old same old.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
there is nothing really new to write about, but i haven’t written in so long, i felt like i should at least write something. i remember when a day didn’t go by without me posting something in my diary. but lately, i just don’t have it in me to write down what i am thinking and feeling. more because it is too painful to think about rather than just being a rehashing of the same old thing over and over again.
i have to say that i feel like i am getting closer and closer to the end of things. incrementally, by degrees. it’s all coming to some kind of end.
sandra is away this week. she’s off with her family somewhere. i feel incredibly left behind.
and today, my dad was up here, in the city. he was less than 15 miles away from me, but he didn’t come see me. i haven’t seen my dad in over a year, but i guess he was just too busy. he sent me an email saying, “next time”.
that’s what his dad used to say to him. and then he’d never show up.
i don’t know. i don’t know anything anymore. lately, it feels like no good deed goes unpunished. no matter how much i try to do something good, it pretty much always blows up in my face. i should learn to just keep my mouth shut.
i really wish i could learn that.