to try is to not die
Thursday, Jun. 14, 2018   5:57 pm

miserable. i am.

not a strong enough word anymore.

stuck in a dark, sticky swamp of despair?

waking every day hoping to get t-boned by a drunk driver while im not wearing seat belt and ejected 100 feet out of my car through the windshield?

id rather have terminal cancer/get aids than continue being me feeling this way i feel.

i dont think saying im depressed does justice to my recent state of being. "depressed" is a 5 on the scale. the word at 10 doesnt exist in english.

writing those things feels dark. i like it.

but.

i am actually trying to do better. get better. be better.

im underground. digging this fucking gross tight hot dirty dirt tunnel. i have a good sense of direction. i know the surface is around. somewhere. i know if i can find it- there will be light. i know that if i work hard enough, that light will turn from a pinhole to a wide open sky.

sometimes i stop digging. sometimes i bury myself in. but maybe, since im in the process of digging out, i should say, rather: i used to stop digging sometimes. i used to bury myself in the darkness.

its funny what inspires us. what clicks..

winnie the pooh once said- I always get to where im going by walking away from where ive been

he said that today in a trailer for new movie. but shit. it stuck...like...shit. and i decided to be more like pooh. even if hes not real. gajillions of people are inspired by and follow equally fictional stories via their religion.

anyways. its rough going right now. but i think im doing some good things to point me in a brighter direction.

i dont have much option.

it doesnt get much darker.

(im so alone)

darker= calling suicide hotlines to see how they can actually help me
darkest= doing it

new york tonight. looking forward to breathing new air with an old friend
new part-time job driving grubhub
getting my insurance license in the next couple months
road trip to colorado/visiting matt

(i recently diagnosed myself with body dysmorphia. i was never okay with myself. never saw myself as average-always as a grotesque giant. i have recently gained weight and now i truly know fat. i cant believe i thought something was wrong with me. i was perfect. and i hated myself. i need to accept myself as i fucking am. i need to let go of my hangups. i hate the world because i hate myself. i say hate so much because i cant let go of my hangups. i forgot why i started this tangential paragraph. there was an endgame in mind. oh well.)

im trying. i dont approve of any other options.