I fucked myself again. The bipolar and social anxiety didn't help any, but I know that in the end my demise is my own fault. I am getting dropped from college, again. I have no job. I live with my mother in a shitty apartment. I have allowed myself to go from being fully independent to completely dependent and scared of my own shadow.
Three years ago I injured my back and every single fucking day I've had this dull ache, on other days it's an intense pain, radiating throughout my lower body. It's driving me insane! (Of course I tried physical therapy, for months, and no improvement.) I used to hike 4-8 miles, four days a week for work and a few miles on the weekend for funnsies. Now, I can't even walk around the block without either one of my legs feeling like its going to burn off. I've gained about 100 pounds in three years and I fucking hate myself for creating this mess of a body. It is my fault that I've gained weight, I know that, what with the emotional eating, avoiding exercise to avoid pain, and my general state of apathy. I fucked myself so hard.
Three years of slowly fucking myself into the ground. I know it's bad, I can feel it, but at the same time I still feel like I have yet to hit rock bottom. I used to "do drugs" and drink like a sailor, but moved on from that a year ago when I started my degree program at art school. (I don't know if I have a desire to go down that path again, the drugs and alcohol...too expensive and takes too much effort to establish new connections, haunts and what the fuck ever.) I loved going at first, to school, but never quite got comfortable. It's hard to create things when you don't even have the imagination to make daily life enjoyable. And not even that, I have absolutely no energy to create anything. I feel no creativity. I have nothing worth saying. Know what I mean?
What do I know? Nothing. I hate where I'm at. All of this loathing and desire for a change of direction and absolutely no motivation to do anything real about it. What the fuck is my problem? Is this the disease? Is this the big one (episode), again, the one that takes me down. The one that I gladly follow into the dark, shunning the light of hope to keep company with despair, forever...I don't think I want to die. Sometimes it sounds nice and I can almost let go and close my eyes in those moments and surrender to the abyss. I sometimes try to stop my own heart. I can't stop thinking. I can't control my thoughts, so chaotic and mindless. I don't know what to do. I know, I know, I know that five years from now, I will look at this situation and kick myself in the ass for not trying harder. Why am I not fighting?
I think I need to lose everything. I've lost all of my friends, except maybe one or two...maybe one. My family is starting to tire from my constant mood swings and defensiveness. "Don't fucking look at me like that." I am a monster. I'm so hateful. So full of hate. I've never used words to degrade entire groups of people. Who is this person that has started taking shifts for me, who has started shifting me?
My life is hell because I am apathetic. I'm lazy and I don't give enough to give a fuck. Maybe I do? No, I don't. I care what you think but I don't care about myself. I'm tired. I am so damn tired. Years like this, I've spent years like this. Like running a dryer on fluff air and expecting dry clothes.
I know. So fucking stupid. The only consolation I have is knowing that one day, this will all end. This is the key every door.