Today is a bad day. Not my worst, but definitely a bad day. I talk so much about dying, I think my readers should know what it’s like for me to live.

I’m constantly in cringe mode; reliving every horrible moment of my life. And I don’t mean the big ones like losing my father (something on my mind a lot lately for various reasons); I mean stupid embarrassing things I said or did in front some stranger or friend. All these intrusive thoughts coming at me from all directions.

Days like today is when I understand people who self harm (like cutting, I usually just go a few days without eating). I feel like I want to peel my skin off. I hate every fiber of my being. I can’t sit or stand or lay down. Nothing is comfortable because I’m still in my body. Wrapping my hands around my own throat and squeezing is comforting. Right now I want to suffocate. Nothing can calm me down or get my attention in order to distract me. It’s constant; every single moment is agony and hell.

I’ve spent the whole day at hospitals and doctor’s office. I’m currently in a waiting room to see a psychiatrist so that my meds might be adjusted. I don’t know what I’ll say. I’m just here for meds, maybe an adjustment to my diagnosis, and that’s all technical. But I also want to scream. I want them to know every horrible thing in my life and in my mind, and I’m not really sure why.

I’m really lonely too. I know I have my friends. My boys (and a couple of girls) always have my back. I could go a decade not talking to them and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. That’s loyalty! But its so hard to be in the world when I’m feeling like this. In terms of dating I seem to have a couple of girls distantly orbiting me, but its frustrating. It’s always so hard to pursue someone and not feel like a creep, that’s why I seldom do it. Every relationship I’ve had (and every sexual relationship I’ve had) they made it pretty damn clear they were into me before I ever did anything.

The latter is harder on me. I’m addicted to love I think. I never get THAT low when I’m with someone who I really feel cares about me. I know, I know, I need to self-validate and not count on others, blah blah blah; the neoliberal doctrine because god forbid we create a society that acknowledges we need each other; let’s all be empty robots. Nonetheless, they are not wrong, while it’s inhuman, it is the proper coping mechanism for life in our broken society.

I just read about a horrible murder suicide that happened in Montreal. Wife was leaving him, he lost it, killed two of his kids (apparently in a brutal fashion) and then killed himself. I don’t understand murder suicides and why they so often involve children. There’s no good reason for him to have harmed his kids this way. The pending separation, however, was devastating and I can’t help but feel that if we lived in a society that truly acknowledged that, then maybe less of these suicides would happen.

You’re not a loser for being crushed by a seperation; it’s normal! If you’re single for a long time or not getting laid enough, that fucking sucks, its not funny, its not a joke; its heartache.

Writing this has been the only relief I’ve had today. I’m starving but the thought of eating makes me feel worse. I’ll eat and then what? It’s so hard to explain that. It’s like giving in to comfort when there is none. This is your pain, this is your burning hand. I can’t escape it. Right now I’m just hoping to sleep. Maybe I’ll eat when its late enough that i will fall asleep soon after.

I’m super paranoid about everything right now and always scared about being arrested. When I was in jail, I didn’t have to worry about that. I don’t know why it even scares me. I think its just so abrupt when it happens. That’s the hardest part.

Wish me well. Just for today. I know I’ll be better tomorrow. It won’t be such constant agony, I’ll get some relief. But I can’t stop feeling that my life is hopeless. Why am I still bothering? What is keeping me here? Some kind of irrational and delusional hope. Someone in Quebec won 32 million and when I heard, I purposely didn’t check my ticket so that I could hold on to hope that it was me. Happiness for me seems to be some kind of fantasy. I can just pretend its okay, that I wasn’t sacrificed by my former employer, that I’m not alone, that everything is okay… but its not and never going to be. I want to die. Why haven’t I yet?