I went back. I read it all.  This last one lasted 2 months. Started at the beginning of November.  I think mr s.i. was the trigger. And it took me all the way until now to come back. I don't know how long i'll be here. I hope I get a couple months.

Tonight will be hard.
But maybe it doesn't have to be. Maybe it can just be another night. I was leaving home yesterday,  locking up and I had this thought in passing. "It's his birthday tomorrow" and it's not. Not his birth day.  It's his death day. It's been my birthday I've been celebrating all these years. Because I think that's when so much of who I am today was born.

Maybe tonight doesn't have to be hard. I'm in a good place. Depressive episode over. Maybe I don't have to go back just yet. Maybe i can be alone. Just another night.

I keep wanting to falter.  Reach out.  Connect with someone. Today W. said he doesn't know how he would have gotten through his break up without me. It made me want to cry. Yesterday M reached out and said hi, said he and fiancee would be here next week and that we should hang out. Everyone else has stayed away.

I wonder how they are. I wonder what they've been up to. How they've spent their days.  What the title of this chapter in their life is. I wonder if they miss me.

I wonder if they'll miss me.
"Why is the measure of love,  loss"

Broken things must be thrown out.  Let me throw me out.

I have lived a life surrounded in dishonesty. In hiding.  I am an honest person. It has caused quite the cognitive dissonance.

Today the universe keeps saying slow down.  Stop. You're going to fast. And I am.  Barreling through to some kind of end. I am in a hurry.  I want to get there. Faster. So I skipped the expressway because I don't feel myself.

What a sentence. I don't feel myself.  As if I knew the self that is me.  As if I have ever felt anything other than this emptiness. This desire to destroy myself. A better sentence is I skipped the expressway because I felt too myself.

I keep thinking about medication.
But I don't want to get better. I just want to make it through the day without figuring out how to kill myself. Although I imagine that's what medication will do for me. Make it so I can get through the days.

There is no right way.  No perfect plan.  One day I just gotta do it and hope I don't survive.

The problem you see, is that the only thing keeping me alive right now is the fact that people would be hurt if I died.  It would be uncomfortable.  An inconvenience. What an inconvenient person I am. Best stay away.

One day we'll be gone so long from each other's lives that i'll stop counting the days. And you never counted in the first place.

A scheduled day

Today still feels like drowning. Drowning and detachment. I care so little right now. I don't know if that's true. I'm tired of trying. I want to destroy. Something. Myself. How would I do it? How will I do it? It all seems so messy. The way she plays with me. I am a plaything. Her plaything. An ant being held under a magnifying glass, long enough to burn, but not long enough to die. Can I lay down now please. Tonight.  Just this once. And forever. Can this day be over now? Can this life be over now? I am not careless enough. This body wants to survive. It's how I know i'm a thing other than this body.  Perhaps a parasite implanted by the virgin mother. Perhaps that is why I am so at war with myself. A body fighting itself since the virgin mother brought me back to life. Claiming it for herself. 90 days. Detox for 90 days.

This hurts.
A squeezing in the chest. Short of breath. Maybe tomorrow i'll feel better. If I die tonight,  I won't find out.

If I get better, it will be easier to complete my goals.  My deadlines.

Day 5

Look what a good job I did. And here you are back again. To open up scars. But I can stay committed.  I can stay alone. You are not real.  This is not real.  It's only in my head,  it's all only in my head.

Would it make a difference,  i wonder, if i could feel what other people feel when they think about me.
This is a game you see. Today I am too young to know better and playing a game of how long can I go without speaking. Can i be invisible.  I think i can.  I know i can. I've trained to be a ninja. I've trained. I don't belong here and there's nothing for me to say.
And that's ok.

I should take this seriously. Make a list. Goals. Smart goals with deadlines and such.
First,  find out what happens to one's debt after one dies. Because if the debt gets inherited, then I need to do everything in my power to pay all debt off.
Second,  plan the perfect murder. It's research for a book i'll say.  And it won't be a lie. I have time while i'm paying off all this debt. And it's not a lot. 2k in a credit card. 12k in the car. Some stupid lawsuit that's less than 1k. If I really focus I can have it all done before the end of next year.
And I will really focus.
Figure out how to get the money for the funeral costs to the person responsible for handling said funeral costs.

There's other little things of course, like getting rid of all this stuff I seem to have accumulated over the years

Give in to all the things and desires that my heart and my body want because whats the point in waiting? There is no tomorrow to plan for. As long as they don't require money,  then give in to everything. Say yes to it all.

Get myself on a schedule. A schedule for food and a schedule for sleep and a schedule for work.

Search for a different job. Best not make deep connections right now. No point really. Maybe I should quit everything and do uber. People make a living off that, right?

It's like i'm in the verge of crying but also feel really calm about the whole thing.

I wasn't talking this seriously before. I wasn't. I was enamored with romantic affairs that promised a glimpse at a life. A future. I was investing in people who were trying to keep me here.  Trapped.  Alive.

Everyone's gone now.  No more affairs. I can be serious about this now. I can take it seriously now.