TPA 29

I don't think I'll survive this. My body keeps on rebelling against me. Over and over I keep on losing my mind. I was ready to throw myself off a cliff today. It was only when I had the chills at night did I realize it was because of my pre-diabetes. God did nothing. If I were to die, he would have done nothing. Where is he in my worst of times? Nowhere because he doesn't care. I'm done with him. I'm done with my parents who can't do anything. I just sent a letter off to my doctor. I can't live like this anymore. This overwhelming urge to kill myself mixed with these cold night chills is making my life hell. I should be reading but I can't concentrate. Did you know, I have over five thousand tabs open in my phone. It's more like ten thousand. Even if I go through them all they won't matter. I have so much I want to read and do and so little energy that I don't know what to do. I can't prioritize or focus. 

I was so out of it yesterday that I bought a game. It made me feel better, for a little while. Then I dropped again. What kind of god allows his people to go through crap like this? What should I do? I'm almost in my forties and I don't think I'll last that long. I struggle with weight and I have to fight with my autism. I'm being attacked on two levels. Where does my strength come from? Not from god. God is dead to me as I am to him. I don't think my parents care any more. No one does. I'm a burden on society. It would be better if I was gone. I'm really crashing and I can't get out. I can't ask my folks for help. What could they even offer me? My dad is off to see my grandma so she'll go to the doctor, leaving me with my mom. I'm not going to visit her. Not when I want to scream at them both. I want to rage. I want to rip and tear. I want to sabotage myself. Just let me go off the leash and rip someone's throat.

I have to see my therapist in about thirty minutes. What do I tell him? He can't help me either. I want to push them all away. I'm like a bomb that's about to go off and I'm willing to hurt those around me. I fantasize about killing others, especially my parents. I think that if I kill them that this burden will be lifted off me. If I wasn't so serious about this I would have thought this might have made a good story. 

What else happend? I've been listening to the full history of the Diablo series. I can definitely tell it was inspired by "Paradise Lost." There's this theme of rebelling against your creator thoughout the story. I see that in "Horns" by Joe Hill. This idea that the devil is the only one who understands you. That the creator is flawed and he doesn't have the ability to take care of you. I can see what they are trying to say.

Dammit. You see that last sentence? That one that I wrote in the last paragraph? That one was crap. I could have done better but I didn't. I could have easily said "I dig that" and it would have been just as crap. This writing stuff is killing me. I don't have the ability to write better. I write in the barest, most wasted forms of writing that don't have any flavor or great text in them. There must be a more clever way to write this crap!

What else crap can I put in here? Oh yeah, my fears are cropping up again. Here I am trying to learn how to write and instead I'm helping a friend out by letting him sleep on my couch! How is that supposed to help me? I'm stuck with him and I'm paying for his food. This whole thing sucks. And I'm stuck here with less than four hundred dollars in my account with fewer and fewer hours on the clock at work, which eats into my time and life. I'm dying. I've always been dying. There's not enough time to do everything I NEED to do. And what is it I need to do? I'm not sure. I want to throw it all away and focus on reading or playing a game. Instead I'm at this blog raging at myself.

I don't think I can go to work today. I'll be masking all day, putting on a brave face. But I'll be in Hell on the inside and there's no point in talking about it if they can't do anything. So why talk to them? They can't help me. Prayers or talking can't help me. I'm doomed. 

I keep on finding these help courses and they don't help. They're too expensive. I've been looking at the "success" stories that site claims to have helped, and they look like drivel. Is that what's waiting for me? Mediocre writing and a lack of attention. If I don't make it on the NewYork Best Seller's List, then I've failed. That's how I'm seeing things right now. 

What else can I put into this dump? Oh yeah, I've watched more Vox Machina. It's so crude that it's almost unfunny. Like the joy was snatched out of it or something. But I can almost see the dice roll. There's this spellcaster in the group. I think she's a druid or something. She always yells "C'mon, please work" when she casts her spells. It's like the player is saying those lines while rolling the dice. And the show feels like it's inhabited by a bunch of frat boys. It's hard to have emotion or feel for the characters when they keep each other at an arm's length. I'd prefer the brotherhood bond that they had in The Lord of the Rings. At the very least the show captures the fun of make believe. It does it better than I do when I'm playing Dungeons and Dragons. I suck at imagination. Now the tornado siren is going off and I have to go talk about my feelings. What do I get out of someone who can't heal me? It's like going to a witch doctor for a tumor. Maybe I am dying. Maybe there's something in my head. I definitely have some kind of mental disorder to look forward to when I'm older. Or maybe I'll get it now. I am almost forty and I've done nothing with my life. So why even bother. Maybe I can recarnate and get a better start next time.