Depression’s really bad lately. Pretty sure I am headed towards some kind of crisis.

Every moment that I spend undistracted,. I feel bad. The vast sucking sound within me is louder than ever before. Everything I do seems so meaningless and pointless and yet, despite the multitudinous plethora of options that seemingly exist for me to make something of myself and my life, I feel powerless to do anything to fix the situation I am in and make myself feel good for once.

I am tempted to list off a couple dozen possibilities I am not (and cannot be) pursuing, but that would only be self-torture and that can only make things worse.

So suffice it to say that none of that shit matters because none of that shit is going to happen any time soon. The easy and logical and sensible options are not easy enough for me. Any solution I could actually pursue would have to be so diminishingly easy that would be barely detactable by known science.

In other words. it does not exist. Fuck it. Whatever. I can’t explain it, I can’t justify it, and I can’t get over it either.

This is my Hell..

Actually, Hell might be preferable.

Demon : You know, you don’t seem to mind the torment all that much.

Me : Honestly, I am just happy someone is paying attention to me.

Sad but true.

So I keep myuself distracted. But that is losing its effect. It gets harder and harder to keep the thoughts about how fucking worthless my life (and by extension, mjyself) is and how everything I do is meaningless time-wasting that I can’t see ending until the day I die.

One bright spark : I probably won’t live to see 50 anyway! Yay!

And it’s not technically suicide as long as you are not deliberately failing to take care of yourself properly. I do what I can. I have had next to no sugar since Xmas. I eat fresh fruit with every meal. I get plenty of fluids.

But I don’t test my blood and I don’t take my insulin any more and I probably have a sky high blood sugar level and I barely move enough to avoid being classified as inanimate and all of that is most likely killing the fuck out of me.

Especially when you throw in my untreated sleep apnea. The diabetes kills me when I am awake and the sleep apnea kills me when I am asleep.

Just kidding, folks.

The diabetes kills me while I sleep,. too.

Oh, and they are doing it against a background of severe obesity, also untreated.

Basically, I am a time bomb. One of these days, I am going to keel over at the computer. And I will probably die then, because nobody will even know until it is far, far too late for anyone to save me.

But hey. If I am truly unlucky, I might live. And then I will be free to live out the rest of my brutally foreshortened life in a hospital bed with tubes everywhere, or walking with a cane or crutches, or getting around on one of those fat guy scooters.

But you survived! It’s a medical miracle! You should consider yourself lucky!

Yeah right. Fuck you to death with an IV pole.

Basically, I feel like this.

Only I’m not oking.

And the pathetic thing – the truly, cringingly, horrifying pathetic thing – is that ended up in the hospital actually sounds kind of good to me.

Because nobody expects much of you when you are in the hospital, or otherwise visibly quite sick. My current life would be considered a smashing success “considering”. And I would finally have people taking care of me.

Almost as if I mattered! How decadent.

And it will totally be a vfitting end to a pitifully sad life. Do absolutely nothing with my entire aduilt life and end up dead before 50 have never made anything of myself despite all that “potential” I have been wasting and that only exists to heighten my sense of failure and my negative self-image.

I’m just kidding, folks.

It’s not pitiful.

I don’t deserve pity.

I’m a throbbing pustule on the anus of life. My worth is so far into the negative that I can cancel out the worth of ten highly comptent surgeons just by being in the same room as them. I am such a liability that I could drive Google into abject bankruptcy.

It would take a thousand lifetimes to feel all the shame I deserve.

My entire life had been one long skidmark left by a dog who’s been “scooting”.

I guess that dog would be me.

I’m getting angrier too. I guess pain does that to a person. The setthing flames of the urge to lash out with verbal violence grows inside me daily. Things – little and big – piss me off more and more and the unholy fire gets hotter and hotter and sooner or later it is going to burn through all my firewalls and then bad things are going to happen.

Like, nuclear meltdown level bad. All that radioactive horribleness I have been both suppressing and purifying for my entire life will reach critical mass and I will explode in some horrible way and do things I will hate myself for until the day I die.

And that day might come pretty soon after the meltdown.

But who am I kidding. That won’t happen.

I’ll have a total psychoilogical breakdown when I take it all out on myself instead!

There I will be, in a rubber room somewhere, in a straitjacket because despite me claustrophobia\fear of confinement it is the only way to keep me from harming myself or others,. gibbering and spuming and rattling off long string of polysyllabic nonsense while slowly but firmly banging my head against the wall.

Wanna know the most pathetic thing of all?

That actually sounds kind of good to be right now.

At least I’d be happy.

Just kidding folks…. that’s not the most pathetic thing.

The most pathetic thing is that I feel a lot better now.

I will talkj to you nice people again tomorrow.