minutes to midnight

today I feel incredibly weak. I’m trying to get on track by forcing myself to eat and work out and keep busy but today I feel like I’m staring at the finish line, hesitating to cross it.

Work is tedious, there’s too much of it, keeps me overly busy. Leaves me with large gaps of time to think about the idea of working and how stupid it is for me to be doing it considering that I want my life ended.

I think the same thing about my life; why bother, because I don’t want any of this? I don’t want to save my game, but just to screw around and explore like in GTA then turn off the system when I’ve had my fill. I’ve almost completely abandoned my friends (only 1 person texts me now, but she’s got a kid and loving family so is usually busy). When I would go out with them, or attend work functions, I think again, “what am I doing here, plastering this smile on my face, Pretending like I’m not in pain?”

I’m not trying to acquire anything, advance in career or relationships; I have no use for the regular human life. I’ve been looking for a cause to throw my body into but anxiety at speaking to others keeps me at a safe distance. I’d love to join a cult or build houses in africa and feel that blind love, that togetherness. I’d like to feel something other than absolute boredom.

My brother is still alive and healthy and I love him to bits, but my depression gains more and more ground each day. I wouldn’t feel bad about leaving him behind; I used to fret over it constantly. Because of the way I am, I worry too much, and about the worst case scenerios. He’ll be fine though; my mother isn’t so bad. She’s not good but I’ll be guiding him while I’m around and he’ll be thinking for himself pretty soon anyway.

You ever leave your house and get that feeling that you forgot to lock the door, or you left the kettle on, or something? I have that feeling about my life, like I can’t turn away yet because I feel like there’s something I’m missing, forgetting. I can always go back to my front door, slip my key in and double check that it’s secure. There’s no coming back from suicide.

dedicated to muspelhem, because your comment on a previous post of mine about you liking my writing made me cry in a good way, and I usually only cry during movies.