Late Night Tacking

12 05 2012

Here I am, laying in bed, naked in case you wanted to feel uncomfortable. And, as I’m wont to do at these times (which happen around 3am usually for some reason), I’m thinking. As per usual this means my thoughts have launched off on a tangent but hey ho, let’s follow them anyway.

I’m not happy. This isn’t an unusual situation for me, I’m quite often less than joyous, something that’s more tied in with my probable personality disorder but thems the breaks. I guess I’m destined to forever think of weird things such as using a 12 guage to splatter my brain matter over the wall in such a way that you could call it performance art. Not sure but I think I no longer wish I was dead which may make the reader of these characters think “Oh, that’s a good thing” but then it wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t at least one or two addendums.

No, my thoughts don’t really include versions of the phrase “I wish I was dead” but I still think of suicide. My thinking is that I have crossed into an area of my existence where I have given up on death, this doesn’t mean that I’ve embraced life because I’m still enamored with the idea of not existing, I’ve just failed as monumentally at death as I have at life.

Kinda gets to you that.

It’s funny, I read an article by Natasha Tracey which was entitled “What to do if you start to feel suicidal”. I can sort of see where this article is coming from, and there are possibly some people who would benefit from this. For me, the reaction was less than wholesome because I’ve heard all of this stuff about people caring, but if I don’t care and if I can reason away my demise as a good thing then this language just can’t help me.

Where am I at now? Not sure myself, kinda got a little lost there. Guess I’m stuck in a kind of limbo, too dysfunctional to live and too chicken shit to die. My apathy builds, as evidenced by my attitude towards driving. Once my one true passion, sad as it sounds, I face an extended test and relatively intense scruitiny in order to get my license back. I have already decided that should I fail then I won’t try again. Yes, driving helped me cope in the past but now it doesn’t really matter. Hell, if it weren’t for someone else footing the cost, I wouldn’t even be taking the test in the first place.

I dunno. I’m so fucking pathetic, moreso than I used to be (which is saying something), and here I am whinging about stuff when the majority of readers are going through significantly more intense stuff than me. I’m sort of mentalism lite really, never had a CPN and have not a clue what a care co-ordinator is. Never had a care plan either. Not sure if the two are connected but yanno… whatever.

Think I should sign off and try for some sleep (and hopefully not one where I keep waking up at stupid times). These shitty thoughts persist so unconsciousness may be my salvation. Gnite… or whatever it is you want to say.

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