Giving everything getting crap. Tired of the fucking plantation. Sick of being servile and ineffectual. I need a fucking year off from giving a flying fuck. Feel angry.
I want to let you know that I existed, only for a bit. I was this random mix of carbon and a few elements. Raging against entropy, I stood – I walked. I even made sounds that other carbon water sacks could understand. I scratched and polluted my way across a tiny section of the planet. I saw some hills, some trees, and lights. I walked, I talked, I made paper money that was worthless. I’ve traded my rage of life for baubles to continue some insane grasp of things. Things, I am a thing. I’m just something that has been bought and sold, a number in a portfolio or a statistic. Not an extreme, not cool enough to be an outlier – hell I probably barely even affect the median. I’m a completely average nobody.
And not wake up. I’m tired. I’m so stressed. I don’t feel like I’m going to be able to keep up my sanity or health at this point.
Nothing is easy. It seems like everything is overwhelming. I’m tired of money worries. Everything costs money. I only make so much. I’m worried about taxes, I might owe this year. I’m worried about a rotten spot on the roof. I’m worried about ancient plumbing. Mortgage payments, an etsy order I made, the pressure to do something over Christmas vacation and the money associated with that. The pressure/desire/hatred of dealing with people. I vacillate between all three. I’m at the point of giving up. My head swims constantly with problems, some real, some perceived – all intense. Like gadflies picking at a sore. I rise up put my smiley face on and push on again week to week, only to swing back into intense depression. I don’t know why I’m depressed really. I mean this is life today, right? Work, sleep, work, sleep, pay for a little fun, work, sleep. I should slap myself and get myself in order and carry on.
I feel like I have all these intense things I’m responsible for but I’m hanging on precariously – which of course makes me worry more. Tried to adopt a dog and the adoption people aren’t happy with a 4 foot section of our fence and want us to roll vinyl fencing and zip tie it to make it a ghetto 5 footer for a 20 ft section. Honestly, the thought of doing that makes me want to just say fuck it. Not to mention its a shepherd mix and apparently our homeowners insurance won’t cover it. I just wanted a dog as everyone says they help with mood, etc. Honestly, it sucks because the questions I get are what would you do with it when you leave to go somewhere? Maybe, I don’t want to go anywhere you couldn’t take the dog? Maybe I’ll get an emotional service animal vest like everyone else seems to have haha.
I wonder about electric shock treatment. Lol, I don’t have the money for it. Hell, I dont think there is even a practicing psych where I live that takes insurance. Haha. Services my ass. I need to find some way to stop my brain. I just want to be a good little bee that goes out finds meaning and comes home. Would love it if people would prescribe things like Xanax anymore. Seems only rich connected folks can get that now.
Don’t even get me started with fake work friends. People simply use me. I’m a useful idiot. Outside of work, no one (except a weird woman-trust me) wants to hang out. Thought I made one friend, but apparently hockey is more important than ever doing anything together so add him to the whatever the fuck pile. I tried reaching out a few times, but apparently I’m lowest on the list. I mean, I get it. I come along at 40 something with no friends and people have established lives. I don’t have the energy to ‘weasel my way in to a social group’. Ya either want to hang out or you don’t. I’m not going to beg.
Apparently I’m a piece of shit because I don’t want to spend 1500-2000 dollars to go to some remote ass place to see my son get married. He’s been with the girl for years, I know her. I approve. Its a 1700 mile drive. Or I have to buy 500 dollar plane tickets, rent a car, and pay for a hotel. We can’t take enough days off for the drive likely. No matter what I’ll need to take vacation and spend a shit ton. This of course makes me feel guilty that I don’t want to. I guess I’m a horrible person.
I really really don’t want to go to work tomorrow. I might call in for the first time this year.
I called my employers EAP Program because I was so manic and upset. They swore someone would call me today. A counselor. Noone ever did. Fuck the world.