Good Things

It gets worse when good things happen. Not that I felt good when I got rejected to the business school at my university, but it did give me a reason to continue existence. Waking up knowing that I have a purpose.

Yet I just accepted a great job offer, am sitting in my living room with the love of my life, and feel worse than I ever have before. We are both wearing nice clothes, ready to go out on the town, and that is what depresses me most. I know I will get accepted to the business school once I re-apply, but I worry something like that will finally push me over the edge.

Waiting so long for that life-changing event, that which you have worked so hard for, and still feeling the same when looking in the mirror afterwards. I’ve even lost all the fat and am slim and muscular again. I kinda told her how I felt last night. Most days, I get a tingling sensation on the crown of my head. That tingling sensation makes me want to blow my brains out. Last night I had it while driving us home, and broke down crying and telling her. The description I had was “It is similar to knowing you are going to go to bed once we get back. Laying down and sleeping is just the next task to accomplish. Many times I will find myself with the task of blowing my brains out when I get home, as if it were as easy as lying down for the night.” I don’t even own a gun, though I often consider buying one. Maybe I think suicide is too good for me, and that I don’t deserve it. I often deny myself material pleasures and I wonder if I subconsciously extend this philosophy to my suicidal tendencies.

I still cry over the letter my dad wrote me. I don’t know why I never caught it before, but just this last week I noticed he wrote “I’ve had all my life to write this to you.” What made this odd is that the letter was for my last High-School football game (Tradition in my town) rather than for a monumental moment in my life. Why had he been waiting his whole life to tell me he was proud of me and loved me? I know he doesn’t. The letter has many tear stains/alcohol stains on it now.

I’ve started to do a new thing where once I really feel the urge to die, I’ll start thinking of various ways of doing it. If I am alone I will even start to name off methods out loud. Most are very painful, though I haven’t even officially tried to in 2 years. It does make me feel better, being able to retreat into that state of mind. Blogging here also helps. I think I will try to post/read other posts more often.

Not going out anymore, so I guess I’ll cruise on this site for a while. Thank y’all for reading.