days when i don't feel so good
this is a good look into my mind on what i am thinking about on days that i find hard to get out of bed.
trigger: mention of suicide/self-harm, not in danger of this, just airing it out
In preparation for death… 1:06PM
Today is December 11th. My friend I grew up with’s birthday is this month. So is his wife’s and his daughter’s. My cousin and my Nonno (grandfather)’s birthdays are this month as well. So is Jesus’ birthday; if you believe in that kind of thing.
I got home from Mexico Monday evening/Tuesday morning. I drove home and went to bed. I slept until around 4pm Tuesday afternoon. I ate some bread that was in the freezer and went back to bed. I slept until maybe 11am the next day.
The girl I’m seeing invited me to go dancing. I originally accepted and then cancelled around 4pm yesterday. The dancing was at 5pm. I went to bed and woke up again today around 10:30am.
I woke up absolutely disgusted in myself. Disgusted because I hadn’t showered since Monday. Disgusted because the cat has shed fur all over the house and I’m slightly allergic to it. Disgusted because I hadn’t cleaned my bathroom in months, and there are shit streaks in the toilet bowl, spit and tooth pastes stains on the bathroom mirror, hard water marks and soap residue stains all over the shower.
Dust covers the bedroom I’m in and the entire house. The cat’s litter box is full and smells. Although three days being back and I’m nose blind to it already. The kitchen has bread crumbs dusting every surface. Things are scattered everywhere. A wine gift bag, a book, a hodge podge of charger cords, keys, gum, a lime, Meyer’s Clean Day Multi-surface cleaner, a small baggie with a guitar pick, a role of medical tape, a sock on top of a dish rag, a business card, 5 half used red wine bottles, some with corks in them some without. A rubber band.
A discarded coat on the back of a coach that’s been there for over a month. A heli Hanson Russian hat near by it. A towel. A scattering of magazines and some photos.
Snow outside, covering everything up to the entrance of the doorways.
Fuck this place. This place is a gilded prison. I fucking hate it here. There is no escape.
A brochure to a restaurant. I just want to set all this shit on fire and walk away and never come back here again. No matter how hard I try to get away from it; it always claws its way back. Groundhog Day. Put things away, they get left out. Put things away, they come back right out.
No escape. No escape.
I wish there was more to life than doing dishes and laundry and taking out the trash. But there isn’t that’s all there is to life. You just do that stuff and then you die. You avoid that stuff and then people hate you and you hate yourself and it repeats. It always repeats.
It always repeats.
That is why I think I am preparing to kill myself. Not all at once and not in a hurry. But slowly and surely. I will probably wait for my grandparents to die and most likely my parents as well. But then I will die too. There is no real point I have seen to go on. It’s all just suffering under different names. All just doing laundry and dishes and hoping people don’t get too upset with you.
That’s all there is. Why try to make it into something different? It’s like evolution, that’s all it ever boils back down to.
So this is me saying don’t worry too much about me. I will kill myself eventually. Because there is no escape from this purgatory. When I kill myself maybe this torture will end and I won’t have to do the dishes or laundry any more.
But I probably will. That’s all there is.
That’s all there ever was.
all i have is this blog. 1:17PM
All I have is this blog. I have some other stuff but fuck that shit you know. That stuff, I don’t know, is that even mine? Not really.
All I have is this blog. Why? It’s really the only thing that is mine. That can’t be taken away. Repossessed. Coveted or coerced out of my hands. Well I guess it could.
All I have is this blog. Everything else is not really me. It’s mostly some other thing that makes up something that maybe is me. But is mostly just a thing that is sometimes me. Mostly some other thing that is other. That is not free.
All I have is this blog. Everything else has left me. I am nothing outside of here. All that I am is gone now. Only a little of bit of me is left here. All that I hoped. All that I dreamed. All that once was is now gone. A sliver of it is in here. And then when I’m gone, it will cease to be.
All I have is this blog. Maybe one day, some day, some one will read it and see what I mean. Until then I scream to the void. I scream and I wish and I dream.
All I have is this blog. Because I gave up on everything else. A family. A future. A life more than nothing. All gone. All over. I’ll never grow older.
All I have is this blog. Some semblance of an idea. Some semblance of me. Some semblance of the words that make up me.
All I have is this blog. A place to write words. A place to write things. A place to write me.
All I have is this blog.
All I have is just me.
Shoot myself in the fucking head. 1:25PM
Today I want to shoot myself in the head.
Today I wake up and want to go back to bed.
Today I hate everything that I am.
Today I hate everything thing and I wish I were dead.
Today I hate up and I hate down.
Today I hate He and Him and they/them.
Today I hate the doctor and the nurse and the people all in between.
Today I hate her and the method and the mean.
Today I hate the me inside the I.
Today I want to shoot the crying inside my eyes.
Today I hate and I hate and I hate fully, every smiling face, every warm embrace, every piece of cake. Every laugh. Every craft. Every fucked up piece of graft.
Today I hate everything and everyone. Today I hate all the things and all the spaces in between.
Today I hate. Today I am hate. Today I am full of hate. Today I hold hatred for all.
Today I am hatred.
Today I fucking hate.
going fucking crazy. 1:34PM
I think I have gone fucking mad. There is nothing that makes sense anymore to me in this world. People have their ideas and their motives and their hopes. And that’s great for them; I wish them good luck.
But what are my ideas and motives and hopes? I don’t know anymore. They make no fucking sense. Sometimes I want the world and domination. Other times I want salvation. Again other times I want to be left alone, to be coo’d and rocked to sleep, and in a split second to be the centre of the world.
None of it makes any sense. Especially because as soon as I set my sights on one of these things the desire for it shifts. It moves. It shifts. A new desire has entered the midst.
And has I get closer, it just shifts again. I just run in circles; chasing my tail.
I have come to the conclusion there is either nothing I want or I am just fucking crazy. Because nothing is what this gets you and crazy is what it makes you.
And here I am going crazy. Writing about going crazy and that’s all I think I have to look forward to anymore. Going crazy and getting nothing. And dropping further and further into madness.
If it’s even possible to drop further than I already am.
I guess I should be careful for what I wish for.
running away from all my problems. 1:41PM
What problems do I have? Well a major problem I have is that I run away from my problems.
And sometimes I run so far away from them that I forget what they are.
I think that’s happening right now. I’ve run so far from my problems that I don’t recognize them anymore and I can’t even tell you what they are… besides from saying that I run away from them.
What fun.
Hmmmmmmmmmm…….. what are my problems?
Well I guess major problem is… I don’t even want to type it out because it is so painful. Ok here it goes I will try.
Problem one. The house is fucking disgusting and a mess.
Problem two. My friend wants to meet up and I don’t want to.
Problem three. There is no healthy food in the house so I’ve been eating ingredients and shit that makes me feel bad.
Problem four. Avoiding girl I am seeing.
Problem five. I don’t even fucking know; I bunch of other shit I guess.
Are these even problems? Like who fucking cares. I could just not do any of this shit and life will go on.
Who fucking cares?
Who fucking cares?
Who fucking cares?
Nothing fucking matters. Nothing matters. Nothing matters. Nothing matters. Nothing matters. I will die and so will everyone else. Why try? There is no point to anything.
Nothing fucking matters.
i think i will be fine. 9:00AM the next day.
I think i will be fine. After writing all this I cleaned the bathroom and the cat litter and did laundry and some dishes. I made myself lunch and I had a shower and brushed my teeth and flossed.
I felt a lot better after all that.
I went to bed and had a good sleep.
It's funny how destructive the mind can be.