i’ve never seen the desert before, to be so close to nothing

this one’s a doozy.

it just hit me like a truck while i was trying to fall asleep the other night: i wish i had killed my self years ago. i’ve wasted so much time on earth. i used to think i could be a different person if i was just in a different place. but i’ve lived long enough, and i’ve travelled far enough that i know i will never be able to change.

lol i will never be able to put my family through my suicide tho.

yet i can’t stop thinking about it when each day ends. i’m just tired, i tell myself each night at 1am. do you ever get so tired that suicide seems like the only option. lol i can sleep when i’m dead.

i will probably not kill myself. so who the fuck cares how much pain i am in, right?

sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt, and all that shit, right?

i broke down in the doctor’s office crying when the doc asked if i was okay, after i filled out the stupid depression questionnaire.

i just feel trapped, i told her.

and i do. i feel like a pathetic little animal. like i would rather chew off my own leg than live here. lol.

i love how everyone is okay with how much my life feels like hell, as long as i don’t kill myself and make them feel bad. it isn’t about me, it’s all about them. like people are always saying there are worse things than death, but they don’t believe it. people will say anything to me, all the lies, as long as i don’t make that final step off the edge.

as an abrupt change of subject, we ate indian food after the doctor. it was good and spicy. lol my mom is so oblivious to everything, good for her. she thinks today was a good day.

i would do anything to let everyone remain oblivious in my life. but my resolve is crumbling. i don’t know how much i can keep this shit up. i need to speak to two of my profs and ask them for some sort of leniency for my shit attendance and school-work ethic. the other one is the religion one and since i’m getting more than 100% in that class currently, i’m not too worried.

okay for now i’m done venting to myself. what a great way to end the day: whining.

the walls say only they’ll keep me warm

wrote a paper on hinduism. not my best writing, but it’s done and handed in. i say that every time, not my best writing. i feel like i’ll know when i’ve hit peak.

we had gender jeopardy in class today, men against women, and we tied. no one missed any questions. i’m cool with that. it’s nice.

i didn’t sleep well last night. i was up late writing that stupid paper and couldn’t sleep after that. i dreamt about hindu gods and me, crying in a corner. ’twas weird.

i don’t know what to do. i say that a lot. i feel that a lot.

i called my psychiatrist’s office and hung up without making an appointment. there was an opening for may 18, but i don’t know if i can make it til then, so i just said i needed to think it over. i want to give up and give in so bad but i have too many people whose happiness hinges on my continued existence.

i think that’s why i resent love and hope and all the “good” things. i’m a quitter at heart, and things like them won’t let me quit. plus i just don’t think i deserve anything good deep down.

the hindus would probs believe the reason this life of mine is so miserable no matter what actually happens is that i was a terrible creature in a past life. it’s karma. written in fate. i just deserve this. but i’m not actually hindu soo i guess i cannot accurately describe what they believe with any sort of certainty.

have you ever felt like your entire world is tumbling down around you and you’re losing control of everything, the tenuous grip on sanity you had is slipping, but to everyone else you seem fine as all you do to show your despair is to laugh at your own morbid jokes?

it’s like, if they really loved me, they’d see through all the lies i tell them about how great i am doing.

i’m so sad though. talk about self absorbed: every time i think about suicide i make myself think about the ideal effect my death would have, people would be mourning and shit. so i get all sad thinking about it and i know i can’t do it then, but i get sadder and sadder thinking about my death. and it’s like why bother living when all you do is lay around in your spare time thinking about your own death and bawling. well not like literally all you do but almost, i swear.

 

some notes i have. some lively reflections:

we’re actually all just ants on this giant dirt clod. consoling ourselves with our designated tasks until death comes along, and we curl up and die. lol, does that mean all of the deities are actually sociopathic children with magnifying glasses?

yeah, no.

the words tumbled in my mind: a fluid effervescence a bubbling babbling presence. insanity take away my depression, i don’t see me in the reflection.

see, when the apocalypse takes most of humanity in its maw, we will have to revert back to relying mostly on oral tradition. i am mentally compiling memes so that we doomed few to survive the freakish hellhole that the planet shall become, we precious few shall have history…👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

 

patient time will carry me, on her back without a sigh

the basic af poster above my head, 'cause why not go with the night theme

i wake up four times, tossing, turning. force myself back to sleep all four times. finally, the fifth time, i look at my phone to see the time: it is still only 12:30AM. i fell asleep around 10. does time freaking warp when we sleep?

i have to get up around 6. i figure then i get plenty of sleep. but here i am, wide awake. tense. alert. mentally disheveled. it’s that damn paper. i have to write that damn paper tomorrow. it is only four to six pages and i already know the material well, but i’m awake now, my mind drawn to and from the idea of it like a moth to a damn light bulb, and i don’t even feel like falling back to sleep.

i work tomorrow, only 7-12, but i’m trying to rationalize staying up all night and then working and then having all of the rest of tomorrow to write the paper. i’d be tired, and the next day i have to wake up again around 6, go to school around 7, come home around 2:30, and then i can sleep. and the next day i have work. and the next i have class again.

friday, i go to the doctor’s at 9:30. i don’t wanna go and explain everything that’s wrong with me. explain what new meds i’m on and what meds i no longer take. i don’t wanna go through all the hassle of a doctor poking and prodding me. when they hear i have depression, i don’t want them to ask all the questions that come along with that. how often do you think of harming yourself: alll the days, most of the days, a few of the days, or none of the days? ALL THE DAYS.

on a scale of 1-5, how badly do you wanna fuck with death? a solid 4, actually, now that i think about it. which isn’t that bad. see, things are looking up already. lol like the doc will even ask that tho.

now, again, unhappily, i am going to try to fall asleep. i yawn a lot but they’re deceptive. they lure me into a false sense of sleepiness, and then i just lay awake forever, waiting for the sun.

if he made me in his image then he’s a failure too

i wouldn’t read this one.

i don’t like talking about this with people.. i have a hard enough time making friends, without a divergent worldview.

i used to be religious, but then i realized i didn’t have to be. lol, peer pressure. i used to describe myself as an atheist, as a secular humanist, and now i found a great new word: an apatheist

see, all my friends were religious, and went to an after-school program called release. i don’t really remember what we did there, just normal activities, like games and coloring and such, but with religious overtones.

one day i thought to ask one of my friends, phoebe, why she didn’t go to release. she was younger than all of us, because she was put ahead a grade. even back then i could tell she was very “with-it”. like, very self-aware. i didn’t possess that trait much yet, but could recognize it in others. so i asked her why she didn’t go, and she answered that her family wasn’t religious and that she didn’t really believe in God. and that freaking blew my mind. i was such a follower, so indoctrinated, that it didn’t even cross my mind that it was an option not to believe in God. and so the seed of doubt was planted by a little sinner named phoebe, lmao. my friends back in elementary school were little jerks, as was i. phoebe was kind of apart from all of us, though. i still wonder how she’s doing, but this was forever ago, so i don’t really wanna reach out like a weirdo.

by age 14 i was on my last religious leg. i got sick of the bigotry, the hypocrisy. even now when i encounter it, i feel sick. like this guy in my religion class, who said aloud that he hoped gays knew that they were evil. ugh. i almost lied and said that i was gay, as i wanted to mess with him. but, alas, i didn’t.

sometimes i miss being religious. no questions, no thinking about all the what-ifs in the world. just simple, blind, dumb (not as in stupid, but as in silent) acceptance of fate. but i can’t seem to go back to that headspace. it’s gone, which is okay with me. i was an emotional wreck when i was religious, too, so i don’t think the bible or the torah or the quran could help me now. i don’t think they say anything about mental illness.

i know that religion can be a powerful tool for good, but i just can’t shake the fact that it can be a powerful tool for evil, too. i don’t wanna end up on the bad side of history. though honestly, i enjoy meeting and learning from people of different faiths, as long as it isn’t the toxic sort of faith that makes you think of gay people as evil.

i think i’ve said this before, but i am so mean-spirited and vengeful that the only time i wish i believed in a definitive afterlife, heaven-and-hell type scenario for the universe is when i meet a particularly ugly-on-the-inside person. then i wish with all my heart that there was a special hell for them. and it’s funny, all the bad sorts are so convinced in their own religious or moral superiority, so convinced the good afterlife is waiting for them. i’d probs go to hell. i don’t believe in any deity (and if i did, i still wouldn’t worship any of the current ones ’cause frankly they all seem like narcissistic dicks in the sky). so if there is an afterlife, i’m screwed. which is okay. i’m having such fun here.

i just want everyone, whatever their faith, to not be an ass to me or anyone else. is that too much to ask?

looks around

apparently, yes.

 

1i4ovmebupcz

yeah there’s no title, but it’s not a big deal, i tell myself, it’s just because i’m lazy.

i had an appointment with my therapist yesterday.

told her most of it, how i’ve been breaking down lately, a lot at night. how it’s been rough.

we talked a lot about suicide. lol, i doubt i would ever succeed in killing myself, or even break down enough to try again, but doesn’t mean i can’t dream.

i thought of something bad because of something she said. she talked about a funeral of a friend that had killed herself, and how she wished her friend could see how much she was loved.

but what use is that love?  it’s easy to love someone who is gone, easy to preserve all the false, lies of memories of happier days. but i’m not happy, and it has tons to do with the people who supposedly love me. my mom, my dad, my siblings. none of them ever tried all that hard to reach me in this mess. tried to understand where i’m at in my head. the voices i hear, the voices that tear into me. they are their voices, all the hurtful things they have told me. that i’m a disappointment, an embarrassment, how i ruin everything. that i don’t even try. i don’t know… i’m just kind of stuck right now, not in the right frame of mind to see anything clearly. things kind of suck when they’re not sugarcoated. life is a bitter, bitter pill.

both my mom and my therapist asked me yesterday, separately, if i wanted to try tms again. i said no. i didn’t tell my mom that it was because i didn’t think it would help anything. i am at my wit’s end. i can’t figure out what will help anything, so i’m just trying to fly beneath the radar, go to bed early with a few pills in hand to help me sleep, and try not to fuck up my life too badly in the meantime. i have a doctor’s appointment coming up. my therapist said she was going to try to bump up my appointment with my psychiatrist. i groaned at that. like, what is she going to do? put me on another medication, that i have probably already tried? ugh i’m just a mess, and at this point, i doubt pills will help anything. maybe this is it? maybe this is just who i am, now and forever. whatever, i’ll keep going, grudgingly.

we’re encouraged to forget, preference to be forcefed

there’re so many other voices. i don’t know what to say. i doubt anyone will hear me. i’m obviously referring to twitter here. i love twitter, i hate twitter. i have a twitter account, but the last tweet i retweeted was on election night, someone asking if it was like sports, and how it was weird that people followed sports, because if the election was like watching a sport, then sports couldn’t be that enjoyable.. it was said better by the op. i don’t really like sports, honestly, unless you count like jumping out of a plane or jumping off a building (with a parachute, duh), as sports. yeah, i’m big on jumping.

but yeah, as i said, it can always be said better by someone else. so i don’t bother tweeting anything. plus my life is killer boring and sad. so what do i tweet about? my witty observations? i don’t have any. plus i only have one twitter follower that i know in real life, so i’m lost in the twitter sea of weird and more witty strangers.

i mostly follow self-styled geopolitical analysts, lol, which should be a bigger joke in my opinion. plus journalists, and the occasional meme/satire account. i used to follow MENA conflicts much more closely than i do now, it was my obsession. but the depression^TM shut that down after a while. i’m going to start referring to my depression as the party police, except what kind of party involves following al qaeda/nusra sympathizers to see what’s up wit them. like, who parties like that? I dO.

i even learned (ahem, tried to learn) a little turkish to see if i could follow turkish journalists and other types. yeah, and that worked out great. i can now at least recognize turkish in a lineup and point it out as the language that robbed me of my valuable time and left me for dead. but understanding it written, and understanding it spoken are two different animals. plus my accent sucks, it has been implied.

lately i’ve just been liking random tweets here and there, like i’m a bot or something. i actually kind of like the idea of people thinking i’m a bot account. unless they block me or unfollow me. that would probably not feel nice. bots have feelings too, or will one day, i hope.

i take the thought of you and burn it to the ground

got 100% on one of my tests today, the one in world religion. it was about buddhism and sikhism. i was shocked to see my score when it was handed back to me. the one i graded had minus 16. i totally made hardly-educated guesses on a couple of answers. plus there’s a curve, so i got 4 extra points because apparently everyone sucks but me. then after class, i threw up in the bathroom. i guess my stomach decided it wasn’t as overjoyed as me. lol, karma.

i went home not long after that. now i’m beating myself up over leaving, as i totally could have stayed.

i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i’m going to call on friday and try to get in to see the doctor early.

trying to tend to the dead parts of my mind. where nothing good grows. sometimes the truth is so ugly that there is no way to live with it intact and be happy. so we have to twist the truth, distort it, look at it thru rose tinted glasses. pretend we learned deep lessons from it about how life is. that we are stronger, better for it. but it isn’t always the case.

it’s just easier to tell a lie than face the truth in its unadulterated form sometimes. i’ve said it before: i obsess over my perception of the truth and the perception of others. it’s crazy how it never quite matches up, even among people with similar characteristics and values. it’s like we all have the same inkblot of a life, but we all arrive at a different idea of what it all means.

i feel bad about the bridges i’ve burned with the sheer force of my ugly personality. friends who got sick of my pessimist outlook. some people would say, oh, if they were really friends they would have stuck around. but i’m not stupid. i know love like that ain’t unconditional, nor should it be. i know sometimes it’s small things, but they add up, and it’s like the voice that took down the mountain of snow. and i’m left smothered in the cold, all by myself. lol.

all i know is, deep down i’m a contrarian who likes to cause trouble for myself. my first-grade report card literally said ‘sarah does not work well by herself or with others’. mrs. johnson really didn’t like me. i almost tell that story with pride now. like, yeah, i’m a real baddie. anybody with eyes can see that i don’t care.