I have it good.
I have 2 homes, a very nice bed and another bed plus couches that are extremely comfortable. I have a lot of food and things to cook it with. I have a beautiful saxophone, lots of momentos, movies, books, a big fan, clothes, shoes, coats, a bike, and many other things.
I hate my scissors right now.
I love them, for they’re helping me now, but they (like most scissors) are dull. They aren’t really getting the job done.
I just have bumps on my arm.
Long, white bumps.
More so just on my shoulder. So I can wear t-shirts and not have to worry about it.
I had a doctors appointment today.
She’s keeping me on Zoloft, even though I’m not feeling anything from it at all.
But I feel my scissors, as shitty as they are.
I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to just tell her how my life is falling apart and I can’t tell what side she’s on. My anxiety is on high now since school’s starting soon.
Normal she said.
Just like being unable to open my university email all break.
Normal she said.
Due to my rough last semester.
I just want to scream.
What is normal about that? How am I normal? What is “normal” anymore? I don’t even know what I’m looking for.
She asked me for my goals.
I didn’t understand that question. So I asked her what she meant.
We didn’t end up talking about it any further.
I don’t know what my goals are. What should I be shooting for? Love? Happiness? Success? From what? They sound so arbitrary.
This life is miserable.
I want to go. Go some place else. Break ties with those here except my family. Become a waitress some place warm, where the sun shines most of the year. I’m alright with rain, but I need warmth because this cold devours and has been devouring every year from the first chill until spring for 7 years.
People don’t believe me when I tell them what goes on in my mind.
I told a good friend last night. He thought I was joking about my past suicide attempts. He was saying we could do it together sometime because he feels that way too when he’s stressed. He joked that we could stand out in the cold and he’d die. I told him there were easier ways, trust me.
I think he gets it now.
Most just nod and look the other way, some apologize and say I don’t deserve it, some pour out what makes them upset.
I just don’t understand.
Maybe it’s time to show people how broken I am. So then they’ll know.