...but now I don't want it, any more.
Also, I asked for it while on pain killers. Drugs actually can make us stupid, the PSA commercials were right.
I hate being a secret. I don't deserve this. Do I? What if I deserve this?
Everything is still really hard. Thank goodness I have this void to shout into.
I used to be part of a comedy group. One of the members wrote a sketch that contained the line "So kill me, and wear my toupee".
I can't trust anyone or myself. I don't even know my own truth
So kill me, and wear my toupee, indeed.
War. Turns out it really is only good for absolutely nothing.
Extreme violence is horrible, no matter what brought it on. You know how Superman was always about catching the criminals and turning them over to the justice system? In the comics, General Zod wasn’t tearing a child out of her mother’s arms, then raping the child while forcing the mother to watch. Zod wasn’t ending the interaction by killing both of them, then taking the recording of the whole thing and posting it to the internet, proud of the “justice” that he had delivered to his opposing Kryptonian factions. So there’s that.
Learning about that video is something that made me angry, today. I have no proof, the story might not even be real, but it was believable to me, and so I’m angry. I’m angry that it seems possible.
I’m also angry about people ignoring their responsibilities in order to do things that hurt my feelings. Knowing that the actions aren’t specifically aimed at hurting my feelings doesn’t help that, even though it should.
It’s like the only emotions that I can reach are frustration or anger.
"All I want is you!"
The words were so shocking to hear that they stick with me. They were just a drunken declaration. I knew that they were never true; or at least, if they were, that the concept of actually having me was too terrifying to achieve.
Still, they were said, and they were heard, and I latched on, like a drowning person desperately grabbing on to a broken raft that will never keep them afloat.
You do want me, but you want me as an addendum, not the main text. When you say "we", I am not the partner to whom you refer. The worst part is that no one in the world wonders who you mean, everyone in your life knows whom your primary is.
When we're together, everything feels fine. When we're not, reality is all I feel, and reality is much harsher than I'd like.
I know I chose this, but sometimes it hurts anyway.
The only reason that I'm hurting is because I choose to be The Fool.
Late night musing: I never have to realize that I look like my mom when she was this age. She never made it this far.
Where do you go when your research has failed you?
When the care you need is literally not available, for any reasonable amount of money?
Pretty sure that I could get what I need if I was a billionaire.
I am not a billionaire.
The mixture of kind words and loving deeds combined with the avoidance of being physically present makes me want to throw up, sometimes. Knowing the reason for avoidance feels a lot like having untreated acid reflux
I have a half-full heart, and a really sour stomach.
Killing yourself is wrong, I get that.
Murder is wrong. Taking someone’s life without prompt is wrong. I get that, too.
Planning murder, though, with no expectation of seeing it through? Still perfectly legal.
Not exactly sure who I’d plan to kill. My inner evil villain has several choices.
The whole concept of old-school Catholicism, where thinking about a sin was just as sinful as actually committing that sin, that never sat right with me. Thought is deed.
I gave you my very best toy, to protect, yes, but also to use and enjoy.
You triple wrapped it with bubble wrap to make sure it was never harmed, but then you left it on the shelf, checking every so often to make sure it was still there, and played with other toys instead.
It’s not that my toy was any better than those, it’s just that it was my favorite, and I wanted to share it with you.
Now, wrapped safely on that shelf, neither one of us gets to enjoy it.
Today I am sad.
The person that I love used to love me back, but now it feels like it’s fading. It feels like he’s stolen the intimacy that I thought was mine, to give it to someone else. I do not feel as if they’ve earned it. And I miss him, but I don’t believe that he misses me.
Very few of my friends come to visit me, any more, because being chronically ill and bed-bound for 7 years is both boring and awkward to be around.
The possibility of getting an electric wheelchair has been raised again, but I need to come up with three hundred dollars cash by Friday, because the occupational therapist is out of network, and I haven’t met my out of network deductible.
I started therapy, and the woman gave me immediate black and white advice in an incredibly grey situation. I hated that.
My family is a Gordian knot of illness and mental issues.
I’m sad.
My stomach hurts very much, because I have IBS, and it reacts to my stress. I’m bed-bound, and can’t afford enough help to get me out of bed when I need to use the bathroom. You can’t limit that to a five-hour shift, on weekdays. Not being able to use a restroom at all is incredibly humiliating.
I’m sad.
I’m writing all of this down here, because literally no one has read my posts from this year. I’m weeping in to the abyss.
Just saw a message thread where I was talking about my feelings with a friend. How I wanted something, but understood why I couldn't have it.
It was precisely two weeks later that I got it.
But I got the Monkey's Paw version.
I hope it doesn't go as badly as the original story did.
It's odd. I want something that I could probably have pretty easily with another person, but the person that I've been chasing is the only one that I want to have it with.
Soon enough all of my chances and opportunities with this person will be gone, and hopefully I can go back to not wanting anything, again. It was in no way fulfilling, but it was so much easier.
I always say, "At least it's not boring".
Will you realize, at some point, that I’m not there?
I feel like you’re not going to realize it for a while.
You said that you were lying to everyone, even yourself.
At that moment, I didn’t fully believe you. Now, I believe you.
The door is locked, and I need someone to open it from the other side so that I can move forwards. I feel like no one’s opening it for me because I have somehow become invisible.
All I wanted, my deepest desire, was to be able to spend time with you, face-to-face, without anyone being lied to. I didn't want to ever be a secret, again. I didn't know what would happen if we did that, but I saw that we finally had a chance to try it out. I was sad at how we got there, but happy about where we were finally standing
But then you made it weird.
Now I'm sitting in weird.
Jane thought, "It's as bad as I can stand. I'll invite Bob over for one great last night, and then I'll take a bottle of painkillers and fade off to sleep forever, and I'll go out on a good note."
But Bob didn't give her one last great night. He didn't even give her a good night. He gave her full truths, and hurt feelings, and confusion, and even more sadness.
Jane thought, "Sh*t, that's not how I want to feel at the end of it all," so she ditched the pills idea, and stuck around.
"I guess," she thought, "the universe has other plans."
Tonight I find myself counting the number of people who would be unhappy, inconvenienced, or all out devastated if I wasn't here, any more. If I just wasn't.
Some nights it's all there is, and it has to be enough. It doesn't feel like enough, but it has to be.
Death comes for us all, eventually; no one here gets out alive.
Some, perhaps only the good, die young.
The rest of us must wait our turn.
If you’re broken, and tired, and you know that the best times of your life have come and gone, or if you no longer understand who you are, and why you’re here, you must wait your turn.
If you’re too afraid to take your own way out, or you know that leaving on your own terms would destroy those you love, you have to wait. Even if, ultimately, you cannot give up the hope that tomorrow will bring better things than today, when it never does, you still have to wait.
Death takes the ones we love, the taunts us by leaving us alive without them.
Sometimes, Death is kind of a real dick.