What do I have to be sad about?

Poverty.  Mental illness.  Violent self-loathing.  Loneliness.  The fact that Donald Trump could very well become president.  The fact that in less than a week I'll be 28 fucking years old and have done absolutely nothing of value to absolutely anyone in damn near three utterly wasted decades.

But other than those things? Nothing really.  Everything is fucking swell.

I hope I die soon.  I'm tired.  I'm so tired.  My life is too much.  Like, they say God doesn't give you more than you can handle, but that's just not true.  Everyone has shit going on that is just too much.  But the difference between me and everyone else is that everyone else isn't a useless piece of shit and can rise to the challenges they're given.  Me, I just worry and cry and hurt myself and pray for death but not have the courage to end it.

gotta catch em all

So I obsess about things.  Like... when I'm into something I am REALLY into it.  It gets a lot of my mental energy.  Lately one of my old obsessions has been back in full force: Pokemon.  I've been playing it a lot lately and watching the anime.  Thinking about my Pokemon team is fun.  Imagining a world where Pokemon was real is awesome.  Looking forward to the new game this fall gives me a reason not to kill myself tomorrow.  So it's great.

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and kill myself when I was 16 so I could just not have to deal with this whole last decade of struggle and depression.

I feel like I should elaborate on that point but what else is there to say?

musings on misery

When I first started getting really bad, I used to wonder if it was possible to get so sad that it would just kill you.  Like that sounds so emo, but the emotional pain kept getting worse, and it genuinely made me wonder if it would keep getting worse until my body gave out.  Eventually I realized, yeah, that can happen.  You can get to be so miserable you die.  But that death isn't because your body gives out, it's because you can't take it any more and you end it.

I'm not there.  I think (and fantasize) about dying often, but I'm not going to do it.  But I understand it a lot better now, how you could get there.

But I've realized lately... there's a huge difference between wanting to die and wanting to kill yourself.  You couldn't understand unless you've been there (I know this because I never understood before).

The only scary thing is that it's always the worst it's ever been, in my experience.  People say it gets better, but nah... it keeps getting worse.  And it always feels so bad I can't take it anymore... and then instead if easing up, it just fucking gets worse.

So no, I'm not there now... doesn't mean I won't get there.  This isn't a threat or a cry for help.  Just opening up... since I'm told I should do that (not that anyone wants to listen lol...).

I used to really love to cook.  I used to really love to write.  I used to really love to play The Sims.  I used to really love to brush my dolls' hair and change their outfits and photograph them.  I used to really love to post on social media.  I used to really love to watch movies.  Now... I don't really enjoy those things anymore.  They kind of actually make me want to die... writing and cooking especially.  It's kind of like staying interested in the same shit is another thing I'm expected to do.  But its not like I enjoy other things... I just don't have fun anymore or like anything anymore.  I just spend each day getting closer to death, but not fast enough.

It's been almost two months

And I've only not updated this blog because I've been lazy.  Life has gone on, in much the same fashion.  I've wanted to die most of the time but hey!  I'm still here.  I've been cooking and writing and been made to feel guilty for being unemployed.  Nothing new in any of it.

I don't really care about most things.  I don't really feel a lot of things.  Like... the house will be burning down around me (for example lol, it's still standing, don't worry) and I will worry... but not necessarily care.  I feel this general sense of badness, but not really... an emotion I can put a name on.

I was told last week that I've seemed better lately.  This was meant as a compliment, but it makes me feel awkward.  Because I haven't felt better... and it puts a lot of pressure on me to maintain this improvement I personally haven't seen or felt.  A lot of it is an act.  But?  If I don't know what part of this act is working, how can I keep it up?  How do I apologize for the days when I don't have the energy to keep on with that act?

I joined this website 7cups.  It's been pretty helpful.  I've been talking about shit and trying to practice meditating every day, changing the way I think, learning how to love and forgive myself... and all that crap.  But it's difficult.  I want to get better.  I know it's ridiculous to expect it fast but I've been this way for YEARS.  It hasn't been fast.  And I want to feel better now.  Right now.  Invent a magic bullet and shoot me with it.

Show of Hands

How many people notice your presence in their life?  The little things you do because you can and should, the things you do for others because they need them or like them.  How many people notice when you're sick or when you're sad?  How many offer to help when you need it?  How many would notice if you stopped answering their messages?  How many would miss you if you died today?

You can't answer any of those questions reliably.  But it's hard sometimes not to feel like the answer to most of those questions in my case is two or less... and the answer to the last one is none.

I know it's just my usually negativity and... other issues... talking, but damn.  It's hard not to believe those thoughts.

Everyday I say to myself things like "tomorrow I'm going to do _____" and then tomorrow comes and I can't bring myself to do.  Usually it's practical things like cleaning, washing the dishes, washing my hair (which I shouldn't admit...), taking out the trash, etc.... but sometimes it's fun things, like watching a movie or brushing pony hair or playing the sims.  I can just not bring myself to do anything.  Sometimes I force myself to do what's absolutely necessary, but if it's not super duper pressing, I don't.  And that's awful... and I hate myself for it.

But name a reason I don't hate myself.

I want to die.  Like... sometimes I just want it so bad.  I wish I could get shot by a sniper or ran over by a car or drown in the bathtub or something.  I'm tired.  Life sucks.  And when I try to do things to improve it, they backfire and things suck worse.  When I do nothing, things fester and suck worse.  And I just... no.  Twenty seven years has been long enough.  I'm okay not making it much longer.

Well, shit

So life chugs on very much in the same fashion.  It hasn't been great but we're all still alive, so awesome.  I had a really good day yesterday.  That's not sarcasm either... it was a very good day.  But today has been kind of the exact opposite.  Very much in my own head.  I didn't get much sleep last night, it was a struggle to get out of bed this morning, and a black cloud has hung over me and I can't seem to quite get out from underneath.  But... whatever.  I'm dealing with it, hoping it'll pass.

Yesterday I wrote a lot and made a candle.  I was around people, and I'm pretty sure I was more outgoing than usual (which is good... I really want to be less weird and awkward and offputting lol).  I'm hoping for more days like that.

Sometimes we get what we deserve

Bad things happen to me quite regularly.  Not feeling sorry for myself, just stating an objective fact.  And I might think to myself at times, "I didn't deserve that.  I'm a good person.  Why do these things keep happening?"  But the truth is that that is a load of crap.  A load of crap I sell myself to try and feel better... to excuse myself for feeling bad.  Because I'm not a good person.  I'm lazy, I snap at people, I whine a lot.  I'm selfish, self-destructive, and a drama queen.  I do deserve all the bad things that happen to me.  And they happen because it's my fault.  Everything that's wrong is my fault.

This post is hard to write.  Not because I have something difficult to say, but because I have many feelings (mostly negative ones) and I can't sort them well enough to describe them.  I'm also having some writer's block, which is just making me feel worse.  I know this goes without saying, but life is hard.  It's rather unfair, too.  And right now, it must be really strong and violent because it's kicking my ass.

So it's 2016

It's a new year, and by all accounts, I seem to still be the same, inside and out.  Things have been extremely difficult lately.  My grandma died on the 28th of December after her long, painful battle with ovarian cancer.  I miss her and I'm sad she's gone.  It's good that she isn't suffering and in pain anymore... but even though that knowledge should make it easier, it doesn't really... and I feel pretty selfish for that.  As far as the five stages of grief, I experience a mix of depression and anger... but then again, that's all the time.  Add to that a truly awful Christmas, my own depression and fairly self-destructive tendencies, the stress of everything going on at home (did I go into that before? I don't remember), frequent back pain, and a slight cold that can't decide if it's truly ready to hit me, the last week or so has been absolute horse shit.  2015 sucked from beginning to end, but good god did it ever show its ass right there at the end.

I'm trying to have like a positive outlook or whatever since it's a new year, but... that isn't working.  It's not as easy as just "choosing happiness" for some of us... and the next person who suggests it is may get tripped if they happen to walk past me.

I'm having a lot of... not happy feelings.  I mean, I guess that's understandable, but I just can't deal with it, you know?  I just want to go to sleep right now and not wake up again for like six months.