Wednesday, September 03, 2003
Taking a page from Matt's book, among others:
January 26, 1990, 10pm
After 3 nights of training* - I really want to quit now - I'm feeling like total hell my 1st scheduled night. ... Have to call Grandma and Grandpa tomorrow to borrow [money for] February rent. Is my life Murphy's Law? Am I destined to end up in a homeless shelter? God (or someone, maybe no one) only knows. ... But, damn it, the only person who can really help me now is myself. & I'm not doing a very good job. I ache, feel slightly queasy, and might even have a fever. What am I going to do with my miserable life? Help! Maybe I'll just collapse here on my bedroom floor. If I keep going at this rate, none of my friends are going to be supportive after a while. & I can't blame them. It's, like, I want to do suicide ("do" because I don't want to "commit" myself to anything - & therein lies part of my problem), but, yet, I don't want to die. I just don't [want] to go on living like this. & where does it come back to? Me, goddamnit. All I know (& know how to) say anymore is "help" & "I don't know." & I don't. "They" (whoever) say you've got to help yourself before anyone else can. I want to help myself, so why aren't/can't I? If I had the guts/weakness (I'm not sure which one it is) I'd end it all right now. But (surprise, happy fucking surprise!), I don't. So now what?
*I'd just started the worst job I've ever had, "making" doughnuts at a Village Pantry (think 7-Eleven) on weekends, Friday-Sunday, 11pm-7am. The job largely consisted of me dropping frozen doughnuts into a cauldron of 300-degree Crisco, and then icing, frosting, and/or filling them. I'd leave work feeling as if I'd bathed in grease for 8 hours, and then had to walk 20 minutes downhill, into the wind, in the midst of a nasty Indiana winter. Not that it was the reason, but if that wouldn't make anyone suicidal...
January 26, 1990, 10pm
After 3 nights of training* - I really want to quit now - I'm feeling like total hell my 1st scheduled night. ... Have to call Grandma and Grandpa tomorrow to borrow [money for] February rent. Is my life Murphy's Law? Am I destined to end up in a homeless shelter? God (or someone, maybe no one) only knows. ... But, damn it, the only person who can really help me now is myself. & I'm not doing a very good job. I ache, feel slightly queasy, and might even have a fever. What am I going to do with my miserable life? Help! Maybe I'll just collapse here on my bedroom floor. If I keep going at this rate, none of my friends are going to be supportive after a while. & I can't blame them. It's, like, I want to do suicide ("do" because I don't want to "commit" myself to anything - & therein lies part of my problem), but, yet, I don't want to die. I just don't [want] to go on living like this. & where does it come back to? Me, goddamnit. All I know (& know how to) say anymore is "help" & "I don't know." & I don't. "They" (whoever) say you've got to help yourself before anyone else can. I want to help myself, so why aren't/can't I? If I had the guts/weakness (I'm not sure which one it is) I'd end it all right now. But (surprise, happy fucking surprise!), I don't. So now what?
*I'd just started the worst job I've ever had, "making" doughnuts at a Village Pantry (think 7-Eleven) on weekends, Friday-Sunday, 11pm-7am. The job largely consisted of me dropping frozen doughnuts into a cauldron of 300-degree Crisco, and then icing, frosting, and/or filling them. I'd leave work feeling as if I'd bathed in grease for 8 hours, and then had to walk 20 minutes downhill, into the wind, in the midst of a nasty Indiana winter. Not that it was the reason, but if that wouldn't make anyone suicidal...
# posted by Thomas : 5:52 PM
