Enough

Too much has been going on at once in my life right now. Or maybe it just feels that way. I’m constantly trying to distract myself from feeling this sort of loss inside. I’m waiting on other people now before my volunteering can begin at the hospital.

Why the hell does society have to make everything so difficult? I’m basically being harassed by debt collectors about my student loan. They’ll get their money when I get a damn job. It makes me want to lose it. Life costs too much and it isn’t worth it to me. Never was…is never going to be…

I received a letter from my therapist. An apology letter actually. She’d like me to come back, but I feel at an end with letting others try to pull thoughts from my head. I live in my secrets and they are going to be what kill me. End of story. My mind has already gone back to what it’s comfortable with. Why break it up when there’s nothing of value to me in doing so?

I have moments now where I feel guilt trying to well up, over my still being alive. Over how long I’ve let myself go without punishing myself. Despite the changes I’ve gotten used to, there’s still something about making it through another day that I just hate. I don’t want to have to hold on.

I don’t have faith I’ll get a job. Everything comes too late for me. I feel like any real opportunity will come only after I’m too dead and gone to take it up.

Either fast forward or
Drop and shatter dead
Time, in the rest of life
I’d rather not spend

I feel the edge of sudden end
Cold against my temple
Hanging my stick arms by rope
It wields its knife against my throat

“I’m well” will never mean I’m healed
It drags me away by the strings of vein
From my wrists, pulled through their bone
The blood ways wrestled from my soul

My voice lends a base
I understand that I should die
In gray of graves, a funeral haze
My blade peak high

Trash

  Only two weeks of this bullshit left and I’m out. Clinicals pretty much sucked this week. There are some nurses that want to get irritated when I can’t give them a fucking immediate answer, as if I’ve been there for ten years or something. I don’t care if they have the more stressful job; I didn’t make you become a damn nurse, and if you don’t like being one, who the hell is stopping you from quiting? They’re no good to anyone with the kind of negativity I left behind today. I have enough of that.

I would not recommend this course to anyone unless they’re ready to deal with feeling like they want to put a bullet through their head. I’m about ready to pick a date and time to jump. Anything would seem better than trying to fit into something you’re just not made for.

There’s nothing I can hold onto. Not one friend stuck around from my past, I can’t connect with anyone new in the present. What good was I ever? No one knows how to help me because I could never bring myself to ask for it. I’m alone in trying to disappear. I’m weaker than I already assumed myself; I don’t believe when others tell me I am smart or that I have talent; It can’t save me or anyone else, for all that it could mean. We all still die. And we all still suffer as we wait in line.

I don’t want to wake up again. I don’t have anything more to give.

Despondent

           I just came back from the appointment I set. This training program will be overwhelming, as she described it as being a college course cramped into twelve weeks. I will have to breathe every moment in what it’s all about. The professional side must be kept up and I’ve got to lie, if I want work.

Like I said, I just came back from hearing all about it and I know this job is not for me. She described it as “meeting different kinds of people all the time” as a way to shade it as an exciting aspect to the job. All that’s screaming in my head now is how big of a problem my anxiety has shown itself to be. I can’t do this course without taking medication, it is an absolute fact now that I’ve heard what I have. I kept listening to her talk on and on about the requirements and demands and felt myself detaching. I was not breathing or really appreciating anything she was saying at all.

I can’t do anything and have it work out. Not when it comes to getting my life together, having a career. I hate knowing that I’ve got to go through this course knowing it’s not right for me. Knowing my anxiety and depression will be a problem in the long run. Honestly, as I was being driven home by my father (who I willingly never speak to unless I need a ride somewhere), I fell into the usual place of dark comforting thoughts. The truth is what will literally end my life. She kept pushing me about my work experience until I blatantly said I have none, and I told her I don’t lie about it. So what’s my worth here? If I have no work experience and can’t get work experience and on top of it all I have social anxiety which makes me not want a job in the first place, why the hell am I here? Society has no place for the kind of spare I am.  

I must have a physical, like I thought, but also I have to pay for a background check and uniform scrubs. And what if the doctor fills out the portion on the medical certificate about there being any emotional problems that would prevent me from completing this course? They should fill that part out I guess, I hope, because it would show everyone that yeah, there is something wrong with me as I’ve always suspected. Something so wrong that I’ve made it to 19 without ever having had a job, without driving, without really living the way everyone would expect… and above all, that I have nothing but suicidal thoughts, no matter what I’m doing to improve things.  

But I will tell my mother I’ll do everything they ask, despite how I feel, but also without extending myself to pretend anymore than necessary. It’s a certain kind of misery, right. If only I could believe I am important enough, or if I could just snap my fingers and be happy and stop complaining and just live and do what others do so easily…. 

My mother leaves friday to visit her sister for the weekend. All the time in the world.

Silly me….

     Life just sucks…first you get blamed and bunched together for what you’ve got no control over just so someone can have the pleasure of having another to blame, at the expense of anothers self-esteem, then you are discarded and told you’re simply unimportant no matter what you’ve done.

Sometimes I literally feel like burning/cutting off all my skin, ripping my vocal cords out, and existing without being anything, not a female, not black, not part of any community or anything that would pull me into what it means to be human. Sure, it might sound like I have identity issues. I do actually. Growing up in a society of stereotypes, where since my skin is darker it must mean I only listen to rap or I’m only supposed to look and act a certain way for the sake of living up to the false image set out for me. It just seems that way. It just hurts that way for me at times.  

There’s a lot wrong, once again. As I try and register for this training program, I found out I will have to wait until March before the first classes begin. I wanted to break down and cry the moment I heard. But nothing in life will ever be on my side and it’s about time I take strength in that, and never allow myself to consider that even a possibility. Anything that ’’should” happen hardly does, or at least no the way you picture it happening. It’s not always attainable.

Maybe I can spend this winter learning to drive and getting my tests out of the way. Something to live for, until another obstacle comes around. What the hell is the point…..I’m a fool for still wondering.

I’m going to hate this….

   Some things have opened up recently. I can take a three month course at a local school to become a Health Unit coordinator. In practice it’s basically typing in patient info into a computer, data entry with specific rules to follow, routine. It’s better than two years being wasted; three months is nothing. The tuition is $3,000, but seeing how you could get a job easily after the course and if you’ve done well, I’m not worried about paying that back.

The only thing I am hesitant about though is the process for actually applying to the school. I need a two step tb test and a physical. My first reaction was saying ‘I’m screwed’, because the TB test means someone seeing one of my forearms, and unlike what’s common for most people, both my forearms have scars on them. Maybe I’ll just offer my right forearm which has less of them….and besides this, I absolutely hate having physicals. Being examined like that in front of a total stranger…God, I just don’t want to have to explain anything to anyone you know?  

Sure, they probably aren’t asking for too much, but it feels like they are. I didn’t want to have to ever set foot in a doctor’s office again to be examined and tested. After going there for mental health reasons then, more than a year ago now, and seeing my physician barely handle my telling her I needed help, I haven’t wanted to place myself in anything near that situation. 

I have applied for some jobs, dish washing jobs, retail jobs, stocking jobs, medical record clerk jobs, and I have not received any word yet. Oh, and I applied for a JCpenny merchandise stock job, filling out a long two and a half hour questionnaire about personality, only to be told I was not fit for the position. How fucked up is that?…Not even good enough to stock merchandise?

It’s only nice knowing I can call it quits any time I get good and ready. Nothing can fix my state of mind, I know that. So whatever thoughts give me comfort, I will hold onto them, whether they’re good for me or not.

The Way Out

 

It’s all about escape.  

Things are real bad now. Really really bad. I owe $867 to my college now because I withdrew from classes too late to receive even a partial refund. I hate myself more than words can even say right now. She said, well you just have to get a job, and do some things you may not want to do, but it’ll work out in the end…my mother doesn’t know I don’t give a shit about having a life at all. She doesn’t know that breathing is a little ‘thing’ I don’t want to do. I am living for nothing. I don’t want a life, I don’t want to make these decisions. I am unwilling now. Very unwilling, and I’ve made sure every option has something wrong with it, because that’s the way my sick mind works. It’s my fault these problems exist, and I saw it coming. I saw the fall coming years ago.