| The Sixty-Sixth |
| July 31, 2006 - Maybe I'm Beyond Me..... I am so tired. And ticked off. And very, very depressed, but it doesn't feel like any depression I've ever experienced before. I don't even want to say I'm depressed because I don't know if that's what it is. I do know that I am perilously close to not really caring at all. I never care enough to do anything anyway. I hate my life. I know it can be better, but only a little bit better. I am quite irritable and I don't have the energy to sugarcoat things, which means I don't have the energy to deal with people. Today I thought about disassociating. From humanity. But if I disassociate I might as well die, and I'm just not to the point of wanting to die. But I also do not feel like doing anything to make things better, because I really don't believe things will ever be good enough. I don't want to live just so I can have maybe two good months out of a year. I don't care about the reasons why. I don't care if it is mental illness, or wickedness or a personality dysfunction or whatever. What does it matter why? I do still cry, so things must still affect me. That's a good thing. But mostly, what I feel is anger. I want everyone to go away, just away. I don't care about any of your issues or problems. I don't care what you think about me. I don't care and I'm not going to pretend to care because where does that ever get me anyway? I'm a lazy, self-centered brat. And I'm crazy too. I keep saying things wrong, doing things wrong, getting nowhere and getting there slowly. I don't go to meetings, I don't go out in field service and I'm almost beyond caring about that even. I don't pray much although I do pray sometimes and when I do I mean it. But I never pray for myself anymore. I don't know if my prayers are heard if they are only for others. But if not, well that makes no difference. I'm not feeling particularly heard about my own issues, t'won't be different if it is someone else's issues. I think when I'm tired of music, then I'll be ready to go. I've stopped caring so much about dreaming or imagining. I know it's drastic when I don't feel like imagining. I keep catching myself slipping into fantasies, it's almost impossible for me not to do this, but I realize a few things. First of all, they aren't real, won't ever be real, and the happiness I get from them isn't real. Imagining love and imagining leading a purposeful life is the closest I'll ever come to either of those things. And what in the world is the point of THAT? So when I catch myself drifting off or getting excited over some mental story, I try to make myself stop. I'm also not feeling the Internet anymore. All a bunch of nothing. Life. Life is a bunch of nothing. Not all life, just mine. My day: Wake up late. Eat junk. Get on the internet for half a day. Maybe watch some tv that I don't care about. Live in my head, dancing and singing and feeling. Sleep. That's it. Every....Single.....Day. And why should I even try to do anything different? None of my changes ever last for very long. I always end up right back here. So much effort for so very little in return. Soon I'll have wasted a quarter century. Who's up to go for the half mark? Not me. God, I can't do this for another month much less years, can I? Live like this? Until I die? Look, the colors are red, lightning, black background. How obvious. For once, I put thought into a webpage and this derivative crap is the best I could do. Because I just didn't care enough to look far or try hard. And that's how I approach EVERYTHING. Little effort. I don't believe things are worth the effort so why try? I feel like nothing. I am not worthy of respect, love, dignity, life. The things I crave I'll never have because I won't do the work to earn them. Maybe I just thought people would love me just because I'm me. Or God forbid, because I love them. But nope. I wonder if I have ever really loved anyone. If I had, surely I'd have had more of a return by now, right? You get what you give, right? Right Oprah? Oh wait, no. It's you reap what you sow, that's the truth. Oh and what have I sown? When I die there will be whispered sadness but that's it. I don't care. I don't care about my weight because...why exactly should I? So I won't find an early grave? This side of the grave is pretty much worthless, I'll take eternal sleep thank you very much. At least I can't feel that. What will I be missing? Paradise? I don't think I've really believed I'd be there since I was a teenager. I was bad then, I am bad now. Paradise is the least real thing I could imagine. For me. I wholeheartedly believe others will make it, and live forever, and it will be glorious. It will be peaceful, and full of love and harmony and nothing but hope. I'm usually good at finding hope, especially for other people. Earlier I was imagining if I was an angel. All they do is God's work. All they are is righteous. I'd love to do nothing but exactly what Jehovah asked me to do, and to actually be able to, without hesitation, difficulty or limitation. And He asks them to do wonderful things. They care about humanity...I care about humanity. They're not part of humanity no matter how much they love humanity...yeah, me too. Oh but I am aren't I? Part of humanity. The dregs. I know there are people far more wicked than me. And some of them are living it up right now. I know they will get their comeuppance and they will be destroyed. But I'm going to be destroyed too. So uhhhh, when does the living it up part happen for me? The thing is, I'm not interested in living in this system of things at all. I don't want to get drunk, don't want to have extramarital sex, don't want to party, don't want to make a lot of money, don't want to carry small dogs around and I don't want to be famous. I don't want what this world has to offer and I can't see the real prize to keep my eyes on it. I'm in the terrible in between. |