15th Feb

 Wax on. Wax off.

Dark post today. Avoid reading it. Move on.

The strong tug of withdrawal smothers me.

The urge to quit contact, retreat, ditch social media, curl into a ball and just stop the perpetual screech of the modern world intensifies.

And not far behind that my thoughts just circle the end of all things. Tired. Unwell. Sick of struggling. I just want to tap out. I'm not having fun. 50 years feels like more than enough of a gritting your teeth for that long achievement.

Work yesterday was busy and frustrating.

The familiar loop of people derping about, then crying about it when they smash their own thumb.

It's a thing I have gone over at length before.

But I realised in summary, it's basically people who are more stupid than me that in one way or another, employ me to continually correct their bullshit and fix their boo boo's when they inevitably and forseeably fuck up.

I am tired of being leashed to idiots that I need to clean up after.

I think at this point I've done it for too long. My patience has gone. My satisfaction at helping has dwindled to zero, and I'm just left with a jaded, exhausted sense of frustration.

It's like the annoying thing.

Am I being annoying ?

No.

How bout now ?

No.

Now ?

No.

Am I being annoying...

etc until finally

AM I BEING ANNOYING.

Well, you are now, yes.

SEE. You ARE annoyed with me, I was right.

Hazel used to do that all the time.

A perpetual loop of needling, why aren't you annoyed at me yet.

Until eventually, yeah, you know what, you aren't fun to be around right now. You SEEEE.

Fuck me.

Par for the course for her kind of mental fuckery. A dysfunctional need to push everything to a fight, because, that's how you get attention and engagement and that's what you're used to. And secondly, a bottomless pit of reassurance hunger that you care, and a crazed drive to push everything beyond the limit until they can sit back and confirm, that after them behaving in a shittastic way, you do indeed not care anymore. See. Was right after all. It's extremely twisty self destructive behaviour. Full on batshit crazy even. Uh huh. Keep lighting yourself on fire until the firemen fail to put you out, then sit back smugly and say, ah ha, I knew the fire service was shit.

Bonkers.

Hence her diagnosis.

Work follows a similar far more subtle pattern.

Constantly annoying and frustrating. Over years. Before asking. Ooh. You're getting grumpy.

No shit. That's because you're annoying as fuck.

In both those cases the subtlety of patience being worn out is lost on them. No such thing. You're either infinitely patient. Or zero patience. No inbetween, and no self awareness to understand that they are a drain on patience, and oh, perhaps I should actually address my own behaviour.

No. How about you get infinitely patient instead ? That would be farrrr easier. Then we can go on being annoying without consequence, which, we like very much. Because it means we don't have to excercise any self control or learn. We get to be an ass.

But you.

You need to put up with it.

Uh huh.

Anywho.

I guess such things do not enamour me to staying engaged in everything. The need to just drop it all and walk away reaches a crescendo.

And then, lying there, considering how shit you feel, ass is a disaster again, asthma is fucking you about.

Meh.

Just fucking shoot me. Honestly.

And my brain just falls into a horrible, reassuring place of considering it's own demise. Just. End it. It would be so nice. Peaceful. Just. Stop. How nice would that be ? No more suffering. Nothing to worry about. Ah. Like being asleep. With no dreams. Imagine how good that would be.

A siren song.

Suicidal ideation. Again.

Meh.