Sunday, March 19, 2023

Screaming in to the Void

am broken, mentally and physically. I am so angry. I never had a chance. I want to be done. I want to live, not just exist in this miserable reality I keep enduring. i wish I could have known. It is such torture, in pain and isolation, 16-19 hours a day in bed, maybe 4-5 or those sleeping.

First, I couldn’t work. Then, I couldn’t travel. Then, I could not even think well enough to interact on mic. Then, I could barely walk. Throughout, I have tried to keep hope. I’ve tried to help others with what little knowledge I can express. But I am so broken now, so crippled, no one can stand spending time with me.

I am the character from The Beach, slowly dying, miserable and screaming in agony, and everyone else cannot live while I remain struggling, not wanting to die, but unable to live. I will never be comfortable again. I will never feel accepted or safe. This life has been such a cruel experience.

I am taunted by the possibility of moments of friendship that will never come to pass, moments that would make this painful existence seem worthwhile, at least in the moment. I dream and hope for a miracle and all I get is pain. I can’t handle these sleepless nights anymore. I need summer to get here. I need some physical warmth. I have had so little emotional warmth. I am too broken for others to engage with.

Wednesday, March 1, 2023

Oh, F*** Me

There is a personal nemesis that has, again, fucked with me and sent what little living I have left into ruin.

It can be argued that he is just a clueless narcissist and I was very unlucky, his relationship with my only remaining friends resulting in frustrations for me that I did not react to well.

Yet, one unknown for certain event strikes out, when I was suffering extremely on a birthday, an extreme pain event, and reached out to the only active friend I had remaining on Band, hoping he was not too busy to respond, as he was playing Xbox in a party with that asshole.  He started responding, and shortly thereafter I suddenly lost my permission to post in our Band chat, and that asshole was the Band administrator.  I panicked, and my world got even worse.

I devolved very badly since then, and that day was a turning point to when I became suicidal.

Two days ago, I was having another extreme pain event.  Fumbling at my iPad, I reached my friend’s page on my Xbox app, and realized I could ask him to party with me and use the iPad mic and speakers instead of being on a headset through the Xbox (a physical impossibility at the time, stuck laying in bed, the iPad propped on me chest).  He answered, and for a few minutes, pain started to subside, or I was being distracted from it.

Then, THAT asshole, who I have blocked on Xbox, joined the chat party because he saw one existed with his friend in it.  This same asshole that has fucked with me time and again.  Now, to him, my name was blocked, he assumed my friend was playing with my friend’s wife (someone asshole adores), and he joined the non-private party (my mistake, not using it often at all) of an anonymous user to try to spend time with her.

It triggered the fuck out of me.

I did not react well.  My relationship with my remaining friend was occasionally rocky, as it’s hard to be friends with an insane, lonely, isolated, person in chronic pain.  One aspect has been my complaints about said asshole, and how asshole gets the benefit of the doubt (I was even asked to forget previous wrongs and give him the benefit of the doubt before that Band incident) and I do not.  Admittedly, my reactions to things can be unreasonable, though, like here, understandable, I believe.

I am once again friendless, this time, caused by my reaction to that asshole, once again fucking with me during an extreme pain event.  He was excused by my friend because of his innocent mistake (though previously, he had been told to always ask before joining even a non-private party!).  I understand him being excused, as in not being punished or my friend being mad at him for it, but the cost to me was so much.

How am I so unlucky?  Why do I have to suffer so much?  My friend, our messages sent during the days, is practically the only living I did anymore.  Everything else is suffering, my rehab attempts, loneliness, and isolation.  All I can do now is feel pain and wait for death.