meh. \shrugs\

I locked the door behind me as I was leaving for work yesterday morning.  a thought flashed through my mind: “I should quit my job today.”

I didn’t.
and I won’t.

but I wanted to.  not for any of the reasons I’ve ever left a job before — which is almost always that the job is slowly killing me on the inside.  instead, I wanted to quit because I just wanted to quit everything.

I had stayed home Tuesday due to have fell ill over the weekend.  I slept all. day. long.  and Wednesday morning, I wondered why I wasn’t doing that everyday.

it’s been a while since I’ve just wanted to Quit.  like, not necessarily or specifically Life itself.  but just Everything.  (recent months, it’s been wanting to very precisely Quit Life.)  but as of the last few days?, weeks?, it’s been just wanting to casually say, “okay, that was fun.  but I’m done now.”

like when you’re playing a game, and you’re just done playing.  time to stop.  nothing drastic like taking your ball home.  nothing like forfeiting the play.  just, time to stop playing.  no remorse, no regret, just Quittin’ time.

part of me is very apathetic about my family coming up here in June.  (another part is OMG, super stoked!)  a large portion of me just doesn’t really care about anything.

will I be fit and prepared for the Tough Mudder?  meh.
will I do something fun this weekend?  meh.
will I enjoy reading my books the next time I pick them up?  meh.
will I eat anything today?  meh.
I just don’t really care about anything.

nothing seems important or matterful.  things are neither easy nor difficult, good nor bad.  I just don’t care.

I’m not sure if this is an improvement or just a side step from crippling depression.  the jury is still out on this one.

“Don’t Deconstruct”

I don’t know.  I don’t know what to do.  I’m so tired.  this is all so exhausting.  I don’t feel like I’m getting any better; I just feel like I’ve been stripped of one of my coping mechanisms.

I took a hydrocodone Friday night just to calm my mind.  I took stuff tonight too — some old anti-depressants (that won’t actually do anything with just one dose, but hey, I like my placebo effects).  I just need to stop thinking, to stop feeling … even if only for a few hours.

I don’t really feel happiness or joy or peace, like everyone in Group talks about.  they talk about getting a sense of balance and calmness.  fuck that.  my emotions these last few weeks run on only three scales:  anger, apathy, and depression.

something is changing inside of me;
colors seem darker in light.
and I don’t know what that means,
but it’s not a good sign.
you can just add them up, then you could memorize prehistoric bones
all of those old memories, you can push them out and prep yourself for brand
new Information.

I’m so angry all the time.  pissed at everyone, and everything.  and every additional day without alcohol only makes it worse.  not the lack of actual liquor, but the fact that I can’t have it.  that yet again, someone else is in Control of my life.  I get angry at not being able to have my evenings to myself.  I start my day for work around 6am, and I don’t have free time until 9m when I get home — at which point I have to take my first sleep medication.  what. the righteous. fuck.  and now rehab is telling me I have to go to outside AA meetings on both Saturday and Sunday.  WHEN THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE ME TIME?  additionally so, when the fuck am I supposed to grade the essays for my second job?!?!  I mean, seriously — what the hell?

and then this whole interlock bullshit.  I get so angry everytime I have to start my car.  I have fucking asthma.  I can hardly breathe like a normal person as is, and now I’m expected to breathe into and out of a machine at a certain strength for nigh 30 seconds.  I had trouble with my C-PAP which helps me breathe; this makes it more difficult.  fuck this shit.

don’t deconstruct,
and then fill me in;
I’m not
that basic, I swear.
I’ve had enough
of breakdowns and diagrams.

eventually, I get so fucking angry, that to keep from breaking things (or myself), I have to stop caring; I just become apathetic.  I just stop giving a fuck about anything.  because caring pisses me off; so we just won’t care about anything.

“where do you wanna eat, James?”
“I don’t give a fuck.  I don’t even fucking care if I ever eat again.”  “I don’t care if I ever watch a movie again.”  “I think I may just take some sleeping pills; fuck the rest of the day.”

just thinking about making a decision starts to make me tired.  so I resort to complete apathy.  I just stop fucking caring.

judging from picture books, apparently heaven is a partly
cloudy place.
and if the sky opened up, and they let you in and gave you
a formal invitation,
would you go?

from which point, I get depressed.  the idea that I will never again be truly Happy or at Peace.  I fight off tears (I still never did really cry about the whole DUI thing), I feign apathy to Brian and those around me, so as not to let on just how bad it really is.

I mean, just the notion that I will cycle between those two phases of anger and apathy forever only adds a third one: depression.  I hopeless.  completely, utterly hopeless — a state of lacking any and all Hope.  it’s getting really bad.

you can work from Home.

the last item on the questionnaire we have to fill out for rehab Group is about suicidal idealizations, thoughts, plans, or attempts.  I answer everytime “just the usual thoughts and desires; no plans or attempts”.  today, it was “heightened thoughts and desires”.

I’m tired of being only angry, apathetic, or depressed.  it’s exhausting.  and it sure as hell isn’t worth it.