I'm in too much pain to sleep. The painkillers didn't really work, today. I was just overly stoned and in pain. My aide had a second shadow aide an inch and a half behind her. They overlapped.
Anyway, now it's after midnight and I don't want to talk to any of the people who are also so messed up that they're still awake, so I find myself here.
Sometimes it's nice to have an abyss to shout into.
I snapped at you for doing something unhelpful.
You snapped back that you wouldn't just leave it like that, like an asshole.
Do you think that you've never been that asshole?
He sent me a video message. I listened to everything he had to say. I care about it all, because I care about *him*.
He went to end the message. I started to hope he'd say "I love you". Then he did.
Butterflies. At this age.
Today, I didn’t feel well, in the grossest of human ways. Unpleasant to be around, pulling pain faces, being generally human body stinky.
I had a date planned. Know what he did? Nothing I have is contagious, so he came to my house, and held my hand and got me water while I went through it. He distracted me with chatting about important and trivial things. He held my hand some more. He told me how pretty he thought my hair was. We watched a TV show, pausing it a lot to tell each other stuff. When he had to go, he kissed me gently and thanked *me* for really seeing him, and loving him for the whole person that he is.
I’ve been so up and so down about him for so long, that this feels insane. It does feel real, though.
I wanted so badly to put proof of my relationship on the Internet that I resorted to here. There are people out there who know this is my boyfriend, and there are people being kept in the dark on purpose, because it would hurt their feelings. I'm sick and tired of their feelings always being more important than mine.
I like this photo, even though it's a little awkward, because he leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. It wasn't discussed in advance, he just wanted to.
I just saw a headline calling the Gaza conflict, which is terrible from every angle, "Israel's War". I am incredibly angry at that writer. It's not any one entity's war, you can't have a war with a single side.
You *can*, though, have a country that is trying to work under very strained conditions with a group that wants to wipe them off the earth. You *can* have that country retaliate for being brutally and suddenly attacked en masse, at civilian sites, grabbing hostages, beheading people and parading corpses through the streets.
Does Israel make the right choices in all of this? I don't think so. But I don't think that they're the only ones who own it, either.
From the Al Jazeera article: “No child should ever be exposed to the level of violence seen on October 7 – or to the level of violence that we have witnessed since then.”
I agree. But please, please do not forget that on 10/7, the violence was *against* Israel, on Israeli ground.
I'm going to get personal. I am anti-war. I do not want anyone shooting at anyone else, for any reason. I am pro human. Yet an American posting "Support for Palestine" feels like a giant slap in my face.
There's not a nation called Palestine. It's an intellectual construct of a pre-biblical area that has modern country borders drawn throughout it. Israel may only be legitimized by some drawings that the British made after WWII, but it was an actual form of legitimacy of *some* kind on the international stage.
You know what a Palestinian born in Jordan is? A Jordanian. Anyone born in Libya is Libyan same idea for Yemen, Egypt, all of it.
I do not call myself a Jew Living in America, I call myself an American who is Jewish.
I do not wish for the IDF to wipe all Palestinians off the Earth. Jews don't have well-known chants calling for that. Are there some? I don't know them. There is a very well-known chant, "From the river to the sea", and the very meaning of it is promoting genocide of the Jewish people. Because they say that we're evil.
I'm not evil, I'm regular. I have some good points and some bad points, and I'm normal.
I believe that Hamas is starving their own people to death in order to convince the world that Israel is a genocidal evil entity.
If even one more person that I know shows a "support for Palestine" image, my head will explode.
The minute Hamas gained control of the Gaza Strip, the digging of offensive tunnels started, and bombs started flying in to southern Israel at random.
Maybe I've been tricked, but these are the first hand accounts from old friends. I won't mind losing a few new ones if I have to.
Still, all I really want is for people to give peace a chance.
"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.