18

 Today's been a hard day. Woke up fine, but it hit like a ton of bricks at some point in the early morning. Then got an e-mail about being a little more detailed in work and now feedback that is useful is giving me some deep fucking anxiety and I don't really have anyone to talk to about this feeling not that it'd do any good because I kind of just have to soldier through it until work is done. I hate this. It attacks me when I'm not ready and I spend my day trying to manage this weight while responding with appropriate emotion at work and trying not to overwhelm myself with my own anxiety. 

I'm just wond'rin why I feel so all alone. Why I'm a stranger in my own life.

I'm going to bed at 4. Just going to pass out in the dark and sleep for a while.

I feel like crying right now to get everything out. There's too much volumne, too much light, too much sensation for my brain to take in right now. I want to be alone in a dark quiet space so I can just be. Stripped of all the things I need to pay attention to.

I feel alone. Like, really isolated. I am supremely glad to be home where I can be distracted and supported with the basics, but I have no capability to make decisions and no energy to focus on things

I feel like a burden. Nobody seems to want to engage and even if I could what would I say right now. I can't really explain the tightness in the pit of my stomach, the clenched muscles and back pain that comes from this stuff. The paranoia, endless and nagging. It pushes itself like a splinter into my brain and I can't seem to extract it. Everything I have to do swims around my head.

What... What do I do here. I know I'm going to cut back on the weed pretty significantly. Once a weekend, not going through a haze where I can't and don't want to do anything. Warning signs, and all.

I'm at the point today where I'm recasting the failures in life, walking through it like "What did I do wrong, why am I here feeling like this right now", the way every bipolar episode happens. I'm lucky that this will go away quickly but while I'm in it holy shit does it suck. 

I need to breathe, refocus. I want to cry but I know it's not going to help. Feeling poisonously contemplative. I have nothing left in the tank right now - I'm staring into space, unfocused and unwilling to figure this out. 

One day at a time, one step at a time. One breath at a time. I don't knwo what else to do. What if I disappeared? Just... Stole off in the night, threw off all my clothes drank until I couldn't anymore, and walked into the lake. 

 I'd be missed, but not in pain anymore. The problem is that every time I fall down it hurts more and takes longer to get up. No amount of planning or self-forgiveness or forward vision or hope or understanding soothes it. 

17

 It's Friday, May 14, 2021.

I stopped working with ELL in March, I've been job hunting since and money's running tight. I'm going to need to move back home. I don't relish the experience, and it's probably going to be another six months, realistically, before I find a job again. 

Damn. Not really what I wanted. It's a sunny beautiful day and I have my dog and I'm at home but I still woke up with a mental block. One of those clouds that sinks over my head occasionally.

Today I'm going to the beach and swinging the Kong around with the dog if only to get in some exercise. But I also need to be outside. I need to be away from things. I need to run away from my problems for a little bit. 

What problems, really. I have a home and people who love me but the constant gut punch of not being able to keep a job really, really sucks. I don't know what's wrong or what to do and I keep applying to jobs on the off chance that I get one and it kind of sucks I don't really want to be here and I don't know what to do about it other than keep applying to jobs and then get a shitty one when my money and luck run out. A dead end warehouse job where expectations are minimal and I can do something with low stress.

I don't want it. I don't want to live with the unending cycle of dead-end jobs and being one of those brilliant-mind types. It sucks. I don't know what to do with myself. I'm trying not to be negative, I'm trying to keep things on the positive side and breathe regularly and refocus but it m,eans I'm still going home to my shitty, messy, shameful apartment with just me and my dogh and single-serving dinners by myself in front of a TV and goddamnit I'm just about ready to cry from it right now I'm so lonely. 

Lonely and drifting. I don't know where my future is and home at mom and dad's is just another holding pattern in a life full of delays. It's not that everyone else feels happier than I am, it's that even the small happinesses of others seem to throw me into a state where (unreasonably) I feel as though I'll never have them. Even the people who crawl out of the muck and find a good, positive place to be. I'm not there. Not right now. And even though I have some of the things I wanted five years ago, I don't have them for long enough. Life seems to slip through my fingers like sand. 

Going to the beach.

Listening to podcasts and whatnot for the day - Maybe catch up on Mission to Zyxx and a few others. watch Invincible tonight. 

Drift off. Into an aimlessness. L'appel du vide.

16

    It seems like everything goes sideways so quick now. It's not even one day Im fine and the next everything is terrible. It's like a slow descent into it - I can feel it coming and I can see the markers but sometimes it feels like I'm a ride and I can control the speed but not the course. My back hurts and my legs ache which is a surefire sign. It started because I got thrown for a loop by a surprise performance review, which is never good.

 

But this is a pattern in nmy life. I don't know what's goijng on but I feel like I need therapy.

 

Ont he other hand, I'm just. So. Tired. Like, I don't want to struggle with this anymore. I don't want it. Take it back. And if it means I have to return everything else I will just so I don't have to feel anymore. Just not to feel would be a pleasure and a privilege. I don't want to do this. 

 

I want to be somewhere dark and quiet, crying and rocking back and forth until I'm ready to see the world again. I know it's not a good idea but I don't really have anything else in my pocket at the moment. I can't really deal with a lot right now and there seem to be overwhelming demands even though objectively it's not too complicated right now.

 

I feel like everything's falling. Maybe not spiralling, but even with a simple life I find myself juggling a lot. Why am I like this. Where do I go? Why am I like this. 

 

I'll take this ovrer my worst non medicated days but holy fuck they're both pretty bad. It's a close choice, really. The freedom to let go of my meds and completely ruin the brain I have left seems really appetizing right now. Go on a suicidal bender and tattoo "DNR" on my wrists so at least I don't have to live when I choose to die. 

 Legit, I wish I knew what to do. I know I need help but it feels like such a long ways away, I don't know what else to do here. 

#15

 It's been over a year since I last posted. I have a job now. Still living in the same place, things are in a comfortable groove. 

I've started smoking pot since COVID started, so I've been relapsed for awhile now. I've also had a few bipolar cycles along the way. Still keeping up with my meds though, so that's good.

This morning I realized - I don't think I'm ever going to get married or find love. I've been in this space before. I've accepted it, but today in the shower, I realized that I'm not really okay about it. I'm lonely and missing things. I'm sitting here in a filthy apartment at my desk while I work and just... Wondering. I don't know, man. I just want someone to share a home with. 

It might just be because I've downloaded the entire series of Mad About You, but part of me wonders - Of all the reasons I've dreamt up and fantasies I've ever had of why I'd leave my life, I never realized this would be one of them. 

I don't really know what to say about this, but that's something I say to a lot of things about myself. I just don't know. 

Loneliness eats me up inside. I hate being alone, I hate not having validation of who I am outside of the people who love me at the moment. I don't know how to do this - Everyone says that you take your time, that life isn't a schedule and you decide when things happen, but...

Goddamn, I'm 39 this year. I've waited for so long and now I'm sitting here lost. I wish I knew what to tell you when you read this back, whenever you come back here. You might have someone in your life. You might have the things now that I wanted at the time I wrote this. Things might've taken a 180, you have a wife and kids and responsibilities.

Nassim's husband Ami died a little while ago - leukemia and COVID and MS. Married for more than 40 years. 

I'm never going to have that kind of marriage. That kind of bond, a life together. 

What do I do besides hope.

#14

It's been awhile, hasn't it. The last time we talked was earilier this year when I'd entered rehab. That lasted until September-ish, and then I relapsed.

I've lost my job and I'm job-hunting again - Was fired in late December/early November. God I feel numb today. I don't seemt o have the energy, confidence, or ability to do anything positive today. I want to curl up into a ball, cry, and then disappear somewhere.

God this sucks. Why can't I just disappear for a bit and not do things or be around people. I'm just not feeling good. Gopd I wish I could not be at this point of life again right now. I always disappoint myself. I'm good at picking myself up, but holy shit it sucks when I fall down agian. No pill or therapy fixes this, it's just the shitty thing about bipolar. I don't know why it has to hit me like this. Why.

Song of the moment: Blind Melon - No Rain.

Feels about right in my life right now, honestly - All I can say is that my life is pretty blain. What do I do here, where do I go? And the birtch of it is that I'm not so bad - One of the guys on the van is bipolar and legit had a 2 month breakdown where he basically disappeared from life whilst in the hosptial.

Fuck all of this. I feel so miserable about life rn.

#13

Hey buddy, it's been awhile. Thjis will probably be the first in a l;onger series of posts.

On Feb 28, 2019 I admitted to myself that I'm an addict. I'm coming up on one month clean, and I wanted to let things out here a little.

I still feel alone. Not as alone as before - I have people I can talk to about it. But I'm climbing a pretty giant emotional hill right now, and poeriods of downtime where I have nothing to do are not as good for me as I once thought, they seem to reinforce my loneliness. I'm just as afraid of doing things that distract me from my loneliness as I am of being alone itself. I('m trying to slowly get back i8nto standup buyt I feel like slowly isn't really going to get me anywhere right now, I need to get into it .

I''m still trying, though. Getting clean has brought up a lot of things I didn
't think it would - I'm emotionally got a lot of growing to do - maturity isn't something that has come easy, and I numbed a lot of who I was through using.

I still think of suicide. Of how easy it would be to just leave and not have to deal with so many things any more. I''m still tired, mentally, of all the shit that I now have to do, again. Picking myself up has been a specialty but it's realkly fucking tiring, man.,  I''m lost and I don't know what to do and as much as I have brief periods of joy I feel like the road to recovery makes me sadder than it does happier. I'm learning, and I think the cognitive disconnect between who I was and who I''m trying to become is the source of it - The pain is the result of trying to grow, trying to be someone. I don't know what it means yet, but I feel like I have to go through this. Not as a martyrdowm or anything, but I vacillate between being glad I'm getting better and taking in the pain, and just wanting it all to stop. Letting go. Not necessarily using again, but just... I dunno.

I made dill pickles yesterday and put them into the cupboard to ferment so now every time I open the cupboard I get a waft of dill, garlic, and pickling spices. It's really calming to sit there and inhale the smell. I'm trying to cook more healthy, and my next step is to start writing more standup. I think that will help - Performance is something I've learned to be good at because I seem...

I was able to fool myself and others - I could slip on a skin and try to be someone else. I think performing on stage is an extension of that, and so I might feel better for it.

12

Its been awhile since I was back. Im healthy and medicated now so I dont have quite the same level of fears and anxieties I once did.

But I do still fear being lonely. I am alone.

Friends and family, ye4s, but romantic love, the kind that validates you as a person, I dont have.

I am desperatel;y lonely.  The problem is I see no way of getting out of it. I caught myself looking up at the sky yesterday wondering what the point of living is if I cant have someone in my bed, someone around me to take the edge off life. I can fill my days with hobbies, with pursuits, volunteering, and attempting to make the world a better place, but if I dont have love with that...

Whats the point?

Strangely, I still have no opinion of living or dying. I died tomorrow, it wouldn't be such a bigf deal for me. Id probably be scared as it happened, but Id like ideally to pass quietly and easily, like with an exit bag.

I feel numb. I'll be fine tomorrow morning or in a few days. But I definitely feel numnb, and alone.

I looked at the sky yesterday, and felt utterly alone, in the cosmic sense. Like, surrounded by a vast, uncaring cosmos to which I am less than an insignificant speck. It is humiliating - The scope of this feeling washes out even the attempt to address it.

Im lonely. Bored. Tired of life. 

So... I dont really know what to do here. There's no wrapping it up, I just don't know how to feel about this.

I'm lonely. A little scared. Depressed. Tired of life.

If I disappeared tomorrow, would it be such a bad thing? I don't want to die, of course - I'm not planning to commit suicide or anything ridiculous. But would it really be so bad to disappear and be numb for a little while? 

#11

I've been pondering a lot, lately. Dispassionately reckoning my life as accomplishments and failures. Weighing, measuring, and finding. I'm strangely detached from the oncept of taking my life. I've examined it from many angles, and considered, dispassionately, the positives and negatives of my own death, by my own hands.

I've come to the conclusion that there are a great many things worse than death. I don't really have fear of deaht itself. Maybe the means of it, from a car crash or electrocution, burnt alive, heart attack. The method scares me, but death itself is something with which I have come to terms.

That's not to be macabre or ghastly, though it does sound as such. I just don't really see the point of livin.g I wake up every day gateful to be alive, of course, but ultimately I look forward and see a big, blank vista. Dotted with loneliness. It is the monotony of my future that scares me. An endless, blank gap between now, and death. WIth such a vast chasm of nothingness left to live, what's the need? Why do I need to live out this life if all I can see is that?

There's a situation made worse by the fact that I can't really tell anyone about this. Not that I can't talk to people I love, but... Imagine bringing that up - "Yeah, I consider suicide on a regular basis. It is a part of who I am, I've thought about it a few times a week for several years, and I'm of no opinion about living or dying." Anyone who has any sense and/or even a grain of love for me would go on high alert and do whatever they could.

I don't need that. I'm not really suicidal, but it's something I understand to be part of the illness I have. Just as the man with a genetic illness fears the wheelchair, assisted living, or any one of the myriad monsters of the future, I know that suicide is an option in my future.l That there may come a time that I lose the battle, and pass quietly into a rest that no longer means I have to fight the challenge of living.

I wish I knew.

#8

It's been a long time.

Doesn't really matter, though. Its more about coming back than it is leaving for awhile.

I felt that urge again. The urge to disconnect, and go back to my dark safe space. Rock back and forth, cry, and empty myself of anything I could.

I need to get out. Not soon, but NOW. I don't know what to do otherwise.

I feel a little like I'm separated from people. I have for awhile, but I feel like now, I seem to have a gulf in *connecting* with people. I feel like something's wrong sometimes, but I don't really know what it is.

How do you put a finger on the splinter in your mind?

I think I'm being unnecessarily dramatic - It's been a weird 24 hours, I can feel some prescient gust of an episode tickling across the back of my neck. But it's not going to be severe, it's just going to be... there.

Had a frank discussion with mom and dad about my marijuana usage today. I don't like feeling controlled - who does? But I need to get out. I feel like I'm being controlled, and I can't handle it. I don't like it. It feels... compromising. There's nothing I can do but accept the reality of it. I feel trapped.

Back In Purley

It's been ten years. Eight, technically, since I was last here. But ten to me - 2006.

It even tastes familiar. The table, the chairs, the sunshine and breezes.

It's all... disorienting, a little. There's a part of me that wants to go back to Thetford and see it. Just like you want to see what your limb looks like when you take the cast off.  I don't think it's a good idea, but part of me wants to see it. What's to see? The place has no good memories, none. That was a place of survival, not enjoyment. Besides which, I don't know if there's a lot of time to go visiting

I'm glad to be here, all the same. It brings up a lot of memories every time I come here - I've been here once in the last ten years.

I'm stuck here, though. All of my cousins are out having a great time, I'm... not. Having flown in today, I was severely jet-lagged and missed the fun. Such is life. So I'm taking some time out, sleeping, eating, de-planing as it were.

#6

So here I am again, trying to put into words  that which is unfathomable. I  looked up at the sky a few nights ago and thought "You know what if I die tomorrow morning, this would be the... I'd be happy to die tomorrow morning, after seeing tonight. The moon was high in the sky, the stars were out and the night was clear. I was genuinely convinced that if that night was my last on earth I'd have no objections leaving.

The problem is, I find myself doing that a lot. Saying with an increasingly frightening level of finality that I recognize the day as being beautiful only bu comparing it to the fact that I still would if I had no more.

I've had an off few days. Like a knot in my guts, there's a ball that wants to rise up through my throat and choke me into floods of tears. I don't why the instinct to cry is so strong when I'm feeling this way, but I get overhwhenlmed. I feel like standing quietly at the sink in the middle of making dinner to take some breaths and potentially burst into gusts of sobs.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by life. Mad with fear. I don't really know how to handle it, and the sentiments aren't something I can readily share with others - After all, how do you really describe the process of going through a down period to anyone but yourself without really exposing hw different that... How do you describe your down periods without making it sound like you're crazy. You can't. So you donb't, really. I mean, there's only so many ways you can say "Look, I'm feeling shitty and I need to talk", because, and I'm going to be honest, I'm not even sure *I* want to hear it anymore. I now I feel shitty. I know I'm having a bad day. But beyond that, I don't really know anything. Except for the fact that the only thing that really helps is simple human contact - A hug.

I wish I knew what to do with my life. I wish I did.

I wish to have a job.

I wish to move out.

I wish to get adog.

These three things would make me happy. I wish to be self sufficient, but I am not... I know these are simple things. But I want to keep things simple. I am rapidly becoming a more simple man. I would just like those three things in life right now.

Excuse me, I'm going to go lie down, and maybe cry a little to get it out of my system.

#5

Every so often I get the urge to disappear. Move somewhere, delete Facebook, remove myself. Fly out to somewhere, like an island in Indonesia, and stay for months at a time. I don't know where it comes from, but if I were to venture a guess, it would be that the supportive company with which I surround myself leads inevitably to comparisons, in my own head, of their lives and mine.

It could be anything else, but this is what I'm comfortable with thinking. It's a powerful pull, this idea that I can just up and disappear. Not have to see anyone or be anyone or even care, just disappear. Get where I'm going, and lock up my passport and wallet. Why does it seem so comfortable and easy to think that? Is it some sort of analogue of suicide? Is that what I actually want, and this is just a projection?

Talking myself out of feeling bad has been working. Not great, but everyone has to have coping mechanisms and I'm willing to be patient with mine. I've also discovered that physically doing something with my hands means that my bipolar is kept at bay, so I've been trying to reinforce that. Makes me think that perhaps the idea to switch careers to something in the trades might be more valid than I first believed.

Today's been a good day. I haven't been down, just quiet. I've gotten things done, and haven't really felt like collapsing. It's strange that that ranks as a good day.

I can say, though, that the depression I feel right now isn't really *caused* by my bipolar per se, but more as a result of being aimless and jobless. I want to do something, be something, but it's sort of hard to commit to that when I've got nowhere to go. I have all these ideas of things I can do or be, but I'm missing the spark, the oomph to push it forward that a job brings.

I'm hoping that speaking with a career counsellor and maybe getting some inkling of other careers I can do will help me push it forward. I've been looking into things like welding, that seems interesting. I don't know, though.

I have to be careful with these grand ideas. Part of me wonders whether or not they are influenced by my bipolar - I do have a tendency to scheme, and fall apart at the first difficulty. I find it hard to commit.

This sounds like it'd be a good opportunity for a secure job where I can work with my hands and actually do something. Not attend meetings, do corporate things like create change and strategy, and fulfill requirements and timelines with limited resources juggling project deadlines and missing pieces.

This just seems like... Come in. Do the work. Do it perfect. Do it again. Like sharpening knives, or polishing boots. Develop a rhythm, do it right, move on.

I want to do that. It sounds like something I'd like. But I'd want to hear more about it. I doubt it's that romantic, but somehow the idea of working with my hands is something I'd like more than what I'm getting now.

I dunno. Life is weird that way. Maybe I'll find something. I hope I do.

#4

Part of this is about not really looking up at the screen, but looking dwn at the keys. Sensing when I've made a mistake instead of trying to visually see it. Writing is a lot more liberating when you don't really care about mistakes. When you just want to get something out and minimize them, but acknowledge them anyway.


I've been thinking about people. About how so many people have their shit together that I never see, about, I guess, the fact that there are so many people so much more mature than me in so many basic ways.

Everyone I know has their shit together. It's sad, and scary for me - I'm the only one left in the sandbox of youth while everyone else has moved on. I don't understand how to move forward, and I think I'm not the only one, I don't know if I'm the only one in the sandbox. I feel like I've been left behind for something, but I don't know what.

I don't want this to be an... Fuck it, yes, I do want this to be a bit of a pity piece. I don't feel like I have my shit together, and i feel like every day life is getting smaller and smaller as I lose sight of its plumes

What's wrong with me. Why can't I find or keep reasonable employment? Why can't I get anywhere?

Okay, I've got a lot here. I'm going to sort out in my head some things today.

First things first, clean out my room.

Second, change passwords.

Third, I'd like to sit down with a piece of paper, and even try to figure out basic next steps.

Do I need to start looking for a secondary career. What are my career goals. What am I having trouble with at the moment.

Apply to some jobs. Make some calls and set up an appointment or two to figure out next steps. Do I want to invest in secondary career training?

Once this has been done, I can stop for the day.

#3

Today's a day for quiet breathing. Little things are throwing me off. Rejections from jobs. Bad interviews. The inertia of life. I'm fighting back with something new I've learned, the necessity of positive thinking. I'm learning that indulging in my self-reflectivity results in deeper pits than I would've previously thought - I thought being metacognitive about myself and my illness would help me to better identify how to avoid the dips that I associate with the worst of my illness. But instead, it's avoiding those thought patterns entirely that seems to have the most effect.

Today's a day to do things to keep my mind off that sneaky beast. I've mowed the back lawn, have the front one to go. There's cleaning I can do, and jobs to which I can apply, but after awhile it gets wearing to apply to jobs, to try and network, to be consistently faced with the potential of failure.

Even interviews are demoralizing at this point. It's frustrating. I don't want it to be frustrating. I want to find a simple job in a simple place that pays enough fro me to live simple. But I can't even find that. I guess my definition of simple ins't, well, simple. But still, I'd really like the opportunity to start SOMETHING. Jesus, I can['t seem to help it, I get turned down EVERYWHERE. Job hunting sucks. I have to reach out to the people at ODSP, but I've seen those job agencies, they're not particularly helpful. There's no way to get a job THROUGH them, there's no listings or anything.

God, I really want a break. I was thinkng about that today, [picking up my shit and leaving for another country. The romance of it, the opportunity to leave all my shit behind and just start somewhere. I'd really like that. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels here and not getting anywhere, no matter where I apply. I don't know why, or how, or what I can do to improve. And everyone I know who's listing jobs is getting supremely qualified candidates. I'm just a middle-of-the-road schmuck. How am I supposed to go any further.

Take it one day at a time. One step at a time. One day it'll all make sense.

#2

It's a bitch. I mean, just a dragging, exhausting bitch. My self-worth is undermined by small things in a day that end up accumulating at an alarming rate.

I got three job turn-downs in two days. One was for a JUNIOR role. I can't get any jobs, so I've resorted to applying for junior roles and call-centre positions, and I can't even get those. The beast that feeds on my self-loathing and anxiety really knows how to kick in.

I thougth the last time I was extensively unemployed for 18 months would be the last time in my life. I'm 33 and I pulled in 12,000 last year. Twelve thousand dollars.

What am I doing with my life. Why?

See, this is the problem with bipolar. Whenever you ask questions about what you're doing with your life, bipolar has the neat and easy solution.Commit suicide. End it. Because if you have to bash uyour head against the wall for the rest of your life, what's wrong with not playing the game any more?

What's wrong with saying "I quit?"

I mean, there are lots of people who will say that someone loves you and you shouldn't do it because there's so much ahead of you.

But is there? My life to this point has been episodes of futility. Situations where the ball has dropped because of my fingers.

Failures.

And if that's been the trend for 34 years, why is it going to change? What is it that will suddenly come along and make things better? If I've struggled my entire life, it stands to reason that will continue.

And it stands to reason that at some point, I'm going to eventually be exhausted, and make the choice that, up until this point, I've resisted out of sheer, simple bloody-mindedness and stubbornness. But it's there, like a warm, comfortable robe in winter. The promise that the suffering will definitively end. In writing this entry, I've seen and had to correct spelling errors. Repeatedly.

The story of my life is littered with spelling errors that I can't fix. How wonderful it would be if I could write it with no more. To never see the red lines, the corrections, the endless parade of things I haven't done and need to do better.

I could silence my inner voice, the envy and fear and anxiety. It wouldn't hurt. It'd be quick.

I suppose it's a macabre fascination, but it's like a man trapped in a building on fire. I stare at the window in morbid fascination. I know what's happening, and my eyes flit between the door and the window.

I am balanced on that edge. Robert Lowell put it, "freelancing along the razor's edge".

I wonder if this would be better hand-writtne. I feel like there's something more authentic about this if I wrote it and experienced the pain of trying to get every word down without stopping.

I wonder what pain feels like now? I've always wondered what it would be like to hurt myself, to get hurt, when I feel like this. Would I actually feel anything beyond the general idea of pain? If I stubbed my toe, accidentally-on-purpose ut myself with a kitchen knife, would I feel it? Regret it? From an objective point of view, what would happen?

Would the same apply to suicide? If I ran onto a sword, shot myself, would I feel it? Detached as I am it's an objective time to ponder it. Sometimes, the part about getting thrown for a loop allows me to assess with a clear head, objectively, whether or not my life is worth continuing.

I understand how it would be frightening to someone outside my frame of reference, but it's heartening. There's nothing wrong with what I'm doing - I'm dispassionately weighing the balance between further suffering and a gentle end. Doctors do it in hospitals - The balance between quality and length of life. If the quality is going to be this way, forever sporadically unemployed, living a stuck life, then what's the point of prolonging it? Where will it lead?

I don't actually have an answer for that.

#1

Broken is really all it is. Being sad, feeling pathos, sometimes just feeling at all prolongs the down periods.  Sometimes I don't want to feel, and I know that there's one sur, well, two sureways to make it happen. One is permanent, the other one takes a while to get there. Drugs and suicide, if that's not apparenl right now. I can't do drugs. Just can't. Because I know where that leads, and even if I want to be numb, I know that once I start, that path to oblivion in particular will beshort, fast, and probably even worse for me than the quicker route.

Sometimes I do idly consider suicide. In the car at a traffic light. Walking by myself. It's not something I can tell anyone else, of course, but there it is. Idle speculation on how it would happen but moreso about the intellectual approach of it - Why would I do it? It's sort of chilling when you consider it - The ultimate weighing of the procs and cons in my life to decide ultimately whether or not it's worth considering taking my next breath. or getting up out of the chair. Or beginning, willfully and in sound mind, the process towards my own oblivion.

I feel detached about that. Not scared, not really anthing at all. Just... detached.

It's draining a lot of the time. Like, a LOT of the time to conisdr where I'm at and what it means, and ... everuything.

I need to move this to a separate e-mail address. Someone accidentally finding it because of my carelessness would probably worry them.And in turn worry me.

First Post Please Read Me

If for some reason you've stumbled upon, or I've given you access to this blog, understand that this isn't a cry for help. I don't want this to be anything but a catharsis. A place ot go where I can write things down, get them out of my brain. Get them out in a place where I don't have to hear from other people.

Just as a note, Karim - This isn't going to be about me wishing things were better, some sort of melancholy and maudlin wondering where my life went, all that shit. This is just me working out the kinks to get to where I'm in a healthy space. So there'll be some vile, scary, worrying shit here. Don't look at it when you're healthy and wonder what the fuck is going on with you. Look at it like this is what you have to do to climb the mountain, sometimes. This is what you need to do. So you let things out, and you know that you're the only person to read them. And if you want to share them with other people, you can. I trust you.

Just be really careful if you plan to give this addresss out to anyone. This is a part of your soul.