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Monday, August 21, 2017

meme chose

 Lost interest in many things what's left? Sleep is bad , tired. Mind active, bored, anxiety when I think about doing something. Pushing myself to walk. Feeling so lonely yet don't want to be with anyone.this hurts. Zombie. Only spending time wasting time. Online a lot, obsessing over GOT. No purpose. Vulnerable, sick, scared.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

tears

 Having a sad day just back from a walk that's about all I've been able to achieve today although I did shower feels like a big deal I got out of bed but woke up so disappointed to wake up every morning I wake up and wish I hadn't I want to stay in this dream state street and send it that's so stupid the only place I could get some rest though I'm not rested when I wake up I don't know what you're going through is this perpetual abyss this perpetual prison of my brain it's good that the tears come once again I am wondering when they'll ever stop if there'll ever stop if there'll ever be an end to die for sure will be all over I'm only 53 that's all

Friday, July 7, 2017

Time to grow up

Challenging time, gotta speak in code. So hurt, betrayed yet also questioning: am I fundamentally unfair? Is my judgmental nature such that no one stands a chance, least of all myself? Confusing. Mainly likely due to having no boundaries, or extremely rigid ones, no trust, no faith in myself or others. The loneliness is the worst. Who do I talk to? Some ideas, starting with some new resources. Don't want to call family, feels unfair. Really scared. Time for me to grow up. Learn to look after myself.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

trying Ritalin not impressed

And now into my fourth week trying Ritalin on half dose it doesn't seem to do anything on Fulldose I guess this squirrelly high that has me speaking extremely fast and then crashing big. So that's unappealing. Fuck.

Next I guess I'll try cbds, since thc just left me paranoid and anxious.
Woke up feeling so low today , don't know why I'm still here. Well, yes I knows why but this suffocating. Cloying viscous depression is so heavy, I'm so deflated.

So nothing seems to be helping. What the hell is wrong with my brain? Why doesn't it work right?

Shitty.

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Depression is in charge

Woke up wishing I didn't wake up. This is how my days start. I don't ask for it, I seek different thoughts, I seek gratitude. All I want is to feel better, and also to die because this endless this endless pain wants relief. There is no relief it seems.
Trying medical marijuana, can't tell if it helps. Maybe I have some really rare brain dysfunction. People who laugh, who appear to experience joy are a curiousity to me now. I wonder where my laughter went.
I used to have a sense of humour. Now I have loneliness, self-isolation, despair.
People are kind yet everyone has their limits. I want to feel better. That's it.
No one can help. People say hang in there, or it gets better. Yet it hasn't. It has only gotten worse. No one can tell me I will feel better one day, no one knows and people have their own lives to live. They must , as must I, consider themselves first.
I don't love myself, I am certain of my innate bad-ness. I feel incapable of love. Happiness is an alien notion.
I know I can be kind, it feels authentic yet at the end  -and the beginning as it turns out - of every day I remain convinced of my worthlessness. Dying makes more and more sense, everyday. My concern is how to die without hurting anyone, because people say they love me. I counter with a thought "it doesn't matter" people's assertions of love fall away from me, incur guilt, often resentment. I'm staying alive so you don't have to feel sad. Yet I know their grief will pass and they will move on with their lives because that's what people do. They move on.
It seems I have to believe in myself to make it. And I don't. I never have.

Monday, May 1, 2017

disheartening, mysterious, bewildering

Grieving all the time it seems. Memories, circumstances pop into my head and strike my heart. it's a piercing. Deep, lightning quick, hotter than the sun. Sends me reeling, it must be curious to watch me walk as I bob and weave depression's varied onslaught.

I know it's hard to hear what I say, how desperate and alone I feel. And people, we 're all natural helpers, they want to help and when it seems there's nothing that can be done, a sort of compassion panic sets in. But I just want to talk, no one, it is quite clear now, can help me. I have to choose.I have to find a way through all of this feeling. It's so confusing and startling, so much intense grief. I want to know why, I yearn to know but I'll never know. So it's disheartening, mysterious, bewildering. There is little relief in the shitty sleep I do get.

Curious word bewilderment: a state of being. Wildness? Or my natural state? Same thing I think. Maybe I've been denying who I really am and depression is screaming at me, picking at me, gnawing at me, striking me, to wake up before it's too late. Maybe it's ramping up its' efforts to get my attention because there is a message I'm just not getting. Except I am getting a message, one that tells me most assuredly how bad I am. I am a fundamentally flawed, broken, a second.

I think of cutting, imagine who might be at my funeral, wondering where to place my remains. No hole in the ground, although a cave might work. Spread into a garden I think.

I wish I felt worth something. Wish I felt I deserved this life.

Saturday, April 22, 2017

I'm 53 but might as well be 4.

Many memories surfacing, like puzzle pieces. 50 year old instances where I felt unwanted, unneeded, unloved. Preyed upon, ignored, wanting just some attention. Yes, absolutely, wanting attention, wanting to know I mattered, wanting a little reassurance that I was included, loved. But how can that happen where everyone's in chaos? No one's to blame when everyone's trying desperately to survive. And many more times in later life, I kept getting the message, over and over. That I was not wanted, that I had cheated, that I was unfairly chosen. So much of folk's unatttended pain slicing at me. Tearing pieces out of me in their misdirected anguish. A target so young, for so long. It's no wonder I want to die. No wonder I feel so unworthy of this life. No wonder I hurt so much. Every child should have attention, we are meant to thrive not waste away emotionally for closing on 6 decades. Searing. The hurt feels so old I can't trace its origin, it precedes my verbal ability. But that doesn't matter. What matters is it's real. It may not be like anyone else's experience. How could it be? I think too much for the other. I cultivate empathy and it is at root a survival strategy. If I can read another person I can plan and protect, myself, possibly others.yet I'm told I bully as well. Probably true. I don't appear to have much self awareness, I think I talk a good game but truly I'm on the edge ready to attack or take myself out. Extremes only, no in between. In between gets you hurt. Or so it seems. I'm tired of all this shit. Wishing I didn't feel so little and vulnerable and young.I'm 53 but might as well be 4. I'm so very late to the dance.