the sun came out today, literally and metaphorically, dig this;
I went for a two mile bike ride to one of my favorite parks.
played with my dogs
bought grass seed
and did session #1 with my second new therapist of the year.
He said I was “passionate”, and I’m just; “dude, more lined up to work today than has in the past six months, anyone would be keyed up.” I’ve been dead inside, for months, and today was like “okay, I’ll take just this much of a breath”
inside I hate it, can’t trust it. He asked what was keeping me going, as if I had some glimmer of hope, nope, just too tired to die. Death is work, and I’m working up to it. I actually talked about my method, the whole nihilistic oblivion that I believe will come when I throw myself into something far enough to burn out my cares.
The guy was chipper, even in the face of that. Impressive. He had nice shoes and a nice sweater, so it looked like life was working out for him. Guy could still smile, maybe I can find out the secret to how some people manage to hold onto that, probably low expectations, nothing to prove. I’d envy it, if it wasn’t so contrary to who I am that I couldn’t search for it anymore.
In a few weeks I do my semi annual review of my “progress”,,, public health means having to answer for the drugs and therapy…… I don’t know what to expect, because I’m still struggling, in new original ways. What am I supposed to just say “hey, every time I learn to fight something, it develops new attack vectors”? Like I’m not the only one who can see that.
Just because I’m the only one who can see it doesn’t mean it isn’t real, and just because other people believe something doesn’t make it true.
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post script, not worth doing another post over. Today I tried to recreate the better feelings of Monday, and it was a nogo, it was worse, so much worse. Well, bad anyway. I don’t think it’s safe to spend time alone in my head anymore. Then I had a number of near misses with people trying to back over me on my bike… and I was like “just do it you bastards, dead would be better than invisible.”
then I got really surly with the hotline, because it pisses me off when people ask how they can help. Give me someplace to lay my head outside of this godforsaken state, and this godforsaken city. I’d take a prison cell. Then they ask what I want to do…. I want to black out, and for that I need better drugs, which is a request I’ve tried before, and has yet to actually produce better drugs.
Til next time, my suicide note will read; “Went out for bike ride, don’t know when I’ll get back”
Your first day sounded pretty good, sorry when you tried to recreate it was a nogo. It sucks so bad when things go okay but we’re just waiting for it to change. I relate to your issues with the hotline. Like one out of 10 calls to them is somewhat decent for me. I know they’re doing their best.
Also TOTALLY agree with just because you’re the only one who can see it doesn’t mean it’s not real…and just because other people believe something doesn’t make it real! ?? Your talk about bike riding is making me miss my bike.