me and march 22 – don’t read this ranting
CAUTION: this one isn’t for everybody. it’s a rant. it’s what sits in my goddamn head for days. this isn’t a goodbye. it isn’t a hint of a goodbye to come. if you can’t handle it, please don’t read it. i can’t hear about people feeling sorry for me and i can’t hear about people being worried about me right now. it is only going to hurt me more. i can’t hear that life is going to get better. maybe it will. i don’t know. nobody knows. it doesn’t always happen. tonight i can’t hear that. but i promised to be honest in this blog, so i’m going to write it down for you guys. if you know me personally, i trust you not to make a big deal out of this. this isn’t new to me. it’s a pretty common series of thoughts.
if i look back a year ago. a year before that. even a year before that – it’s gotten so much worse. the mental pain is now so physical. my body and brain are a set of fucking disgusting siamese twins and they make me sick. i can’t stand to look at myself. it’s so gross. try try try so hard to be happy – to explain my gratitude for all the little things in my life that are actually so big and mean so much to me, and when i don’t think i can do so – the guilt…you have no idea the fucking guilt wave that is going to drown me someday. it could be insects or balloons inside of me filling up slowly. i feel like i am going to explode. even cutting myself won’t help. i think about a hundred pills and the acid/heartburn nasty taste and there is nothing to be done. these medications are just an expensive joke. i feel like i have become that old toy that nobody wants to throw out because of some ridiculous sentimental attachment. it’s so hard. the things that make me so sad and so guilty. and i am scared all the time. i am scared when i drive, when i walk into the grocery store, when an alarm clock goes off, when a bird sings. i’m scared that one day i will hear a sad song at the wrong time and i won’t be able to handle it. i am scared that i will be driving and hallucinate a beast in the middle of the road and drive off of a bridge and i will be stuck in there and watching my own long miserable death. i’m not suicidal. i just don’t want to live any more. i am just tired. i’m over it. i’ve called my doctor and need to get in there. i need to tell him just how much these medications aren’t working. that they don’t make medications powerful enough to battle whatever it is that i have. they don’t make anything that can help a person like me wake up and want to live. my dreams are useless. i’ve been dreaming about things that i haven’t thought about in ages – people, situations, conversations, hallucinations, applause at my efforts, and streets i have walked down that were empty and tomorrows that might not come. and perhaps i am seeing my life in reverse. no clear direction in flashbacks and stupid narrations.
at some point, it’s not as easy as just wanting to keep fighting just to fight. you have to want to fight. there has to be a reason. maybe i’ve just been fighting for everyone else. maybe i just can’t keep doing that. i feel like i am fighting for something that i may not even want any more. this road is so long. fighting my way back to a place where i can be content just – i don’t know.
it’s just a matter of time now. i think about who is stronger, me or my mind and why the fuck this could even exist. imaginary god is mysterious and always has a plan – but his plan sucks and is fucking rude.
i envy so much those of you who don’t know what this is like. i wish i didn’t understand it all. i wish i had no clue as to deal with it because it wasn’t happening to me. there are so many little things i wish. i think about being a kid. i think about being suicidal before i was a teenager. wanting to die before i had even started to live. how people thought it was a phase. how it was impossible for a kid to have those thoughts. how i would snap out of it someday. like it or not, this illness is a part of me. it always will be. it’s a fucking ugly and sad marriage. i’ll never live to see a cure for this.
not enough. if i ever decide to kill myself again i will make sure there is good music playing. really good music. i’ll write a suicide note that makes sense.
i’m glad to know you guys. i’m glad to help as much as i can before this swallows me.
these shadows have made my stomach hurt in a million knots.