i remember when i first stopped taking my meds and i was dissecting all my negative and distorted thoughts and it was working out ok but now i just can’t seem to do it. i don’t know what changed, i don’t feel (physically) more depressed but i can’t convince myself that my thoughts aren’t true. i thought i could totally handle it because i can be really logical sometimes.

i think maybe being isolated and alone changed it. the more time i spend alone f the more i am left with the person who hates me the most.

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I just finished reading Blankets. Started it yesterday. It was really good.

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I read a couple great zines today. A few more like.

My darlingest Liz is running us a bath because we like baths. And because when I can hardly stop crying, I like to be in a bath because it feels normal to have water coming from my eyes.

She likes having me around in any state, she told me, sad or happy, crying or not crying, and I really needed to hear that.

I’m going to start a zine tonight. I am nervous because I feel like everything that has anything to do with me turns to shit, but I guess we will see. I’m going to try to flesh out my paranoia, and draw lines around it.

I hate looking at facebook so much.

I scroll through and it’s like a little window into other people’s lives. Other people who used to be my friends, who I used to hang out with and have fun with, or at least see at parties or whatever. When I look at it, one of the most prominent thoughts is how none of those people really care about me, none of them have really talked to me in months, my wall is this sad bare place with depressed statuses and articles about injustice. I’m okay with that, I guess that’s who I am, but I really hate seeing all these people who used to want to be my friend or used to actually be my friends. 

Every so often I think about moving, giving up on Chicago because everyone in Chicago has metaphorically thrown me out with the trash.

I love both of my partners, and love being close to them and spending time with them, but I can’t just spend all of my time with two people, maybe I need more validation than that.

Every thing has been flat and boring and meaningless in my life lately. 

I’m also at that scary point where not many people would be too upset about my death.

I also stopped taking my meds because I only have three days left of them and I guess I didn’t see the point in taking them all when I can’t get more and thought maybe sometime when it gets worse I’ll have a few days of meds left to help. 

I have been struggling for years and it just feels like i’m nearing the end. I wish I could explain to people it’s not so much how I feel, or mood swings, its more that I have no redeeming qualities and the only reason I’m alive is because a handful of people love me.

It’s hard to only be alive for the sake of others because I spend all my time hating myself and thinking about how I would kill myself to be rid of this person… but I can’t because I care about them more than me.

I’m just going to keep getting high until I forget about wanting to die.

I just called the hospital because I didn’t eat at all yesterday (i ate one cracker with peanut butter on it and some popcorn before i fell asleep) and i had this dream where i couldn’t move and my body hurts from being so tired and it was very hard to get out of bed. but i wasn’t as weak in real life as in the dream so i did get out of bed eventually, around 2:30. Then I drank some Snapple and ate a couple bites of Benj’s pasta and promptly threw it back up. 

So I feel like shit and I can’t possibly function well enough to find a job… so I called the number becca gave me hoping they had some aid for the cost and stuff and they said no, but they will treat me even if i can’t pay it. meaning, they will give me another bill i can’t pay. so i told her straight up, the woman from the hospital, i can’t have another 1500 doctors bill, i can’t do it. and she said if it was between living or dying it seems like it’s worth it. and i wanted to scoff at that but just said “eh maybe i’ll find a job eventually instead” and she tried to get me to come into the hospital and i told her i was waiting to talk to tim about it. 

I should tlak to my mom but i don’t want her to know, even though she’ll find out i guess. i don’t know. I’m embarassed and ashamed and i hate that i can’t just want to be alive and do well and do any fucking thing but i can’t and i don’t and i get in this state where i can’t go out in public and i can’t leave the bed and i don’t eat until it hurts all over.

i hate this country. i hate that people actually say healthcare is something you have to earn.

if that’s true i deserve to die.

I worry most nights that i might try to kill myself tomorrow. I don’t know. I don’t know if it is time to try to go to the hospital or if I should just try to get my script filled and see if that helps. 

I can’t tell because my brain is going in different directions and i’m all fractured into selves that have many different feelings about my death.

Everyday I sit alone at home with all these pills and all these worries and all this wasted old potential and I don’t know what to do with it. And the answer seems obvious but I keep trying to convince myself it might get better. But I can’t stop being myself. I’m stuck as Mariss. And I don’t think it can get much better with that as my limitation. 

Mostly I just think “I won’t kill myself today, I’ll just wait until it gets worse.”

I wish we were all floating moats and not tangled.

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Letting myself get sicker

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This is where everything started to turn back

I am having major anxiety because today is Monday

which means there is a lot I need to do. I know I’ll feel better once I get on the bus. Once it’s all set in motion and I know I’m not going to just sit at home and miss everything again. I just feel like I might puke and my stomach is clenched like fight or flight mode. 

I’m going to play the gay parade and get dressed, have some yogurt. 

I’m just hoping the depression lets up soon… but more than that I hope I get a job. I think I would feel much better about being depressed if I had a job. At least then I would feel like I was doing something with my life, rather than now, when the closest I am to doing anything with my life is spending time with my rats and now that Hector has figured out that he doesn’t have to listen to me when I tell him not to go under my bed, he’s hidden under there and gotten freaked out when I tried to put him away the past two times I’ve taken them out. So I guess what I’m saying is that my rats aren’t going to cut it for “life purpose” and nothing really seems possible for me now… so maybe a job would be a good substitute.

This is how it feels to be talentless, and know that nothing bigger is waiting for you. This is why I am usually about helping other people if I’m looking for a purpose, because I know that other people are valuable. Have valuable things to offer. And maybe all I have to offer is helping them with their life purpose. 

Anyway. I don’t even feel like doing that lately, which is funny because I have this event coming up that I planned back when I still felt competent even if only in helping others. 

I’m going to really get on with that leaving the house and playing gay parade bit now.

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