April 23

 A few even days, followed by a bad one.

I am hollowed out. On an even day, everything is flat. There is, somewhere in there, a horrible horrible sadness, but, it doesn't come out, doesn't strangle me. There is just a quiet numbness instead. An acceptance that this is how it is, and just, exist. Wait.

I am aware it's super not good.

Today a plague of problems, black eyes, not great breathing, straight into a migraine that has kicked around for most of the day. Feel like shit. Uh huh.

I kinda took care of it, rolled over, slept.

And the hours peeled off. And I dreamed on a familiar variant. Of being at some school. College. Whatever. Many I had once knew had long since left, graduated, but I had been there for many many years. A state of not exactly knowing when I should leave. I had tried and failed many times. And now it seemed like I was finally done. Not in success, just, had run the course. And now it was time to leave. I remembered. That I had already gone around and said my goodbyes. Earlier. Last year. And that I was prepared to leave. Everything was in place. The only thing left to do now was finally leave. And on that last morning, getting ready to go into school for the final time, just to make sure everything was ok to go, Ares appeared on my bed, his old self before he had shuffled off, patchy hair down his ribs, old. He had come back to send me off. And I burst into tears, and hugged him, and cried so hard that it brought me abruptly out of sleep with a snap.

Into the land of waking.

Bereft. Ill. A migraine still grumbling around. Eyes feeling like pissholes in the snow.

It occurred to me. I am dreaming of my own death. The college is life. Working away at it. Not very successfully. Waiting and wondering when it will be over. Saying goodbye to everyone. And Ares is there at the very end, waiting.

Hmm.

Spectacularly cheery.

I'm ok.

Ha. Ha.

I'm ok. Functional. Continue on.

There is no joy or hope or anything in me anymore. This isn't like me on my at this point, more than 20 year journey on depression. This is something above that. As I've said before. It's a loss of hope in everything.

It's just playing out. Slowly. The consequences of being there.

There are many things that have come and gone over the last week. Thoughts, feelings. I have just let them drift away.

Andy for his part has been his expected bag of anxiety. IS IT DONE YET. Neatly on time. Perfectly in step with the pattern that his is constant bumbling anxiety fest of mismanagement. It really doesn't help.

But as for me, I am not sure anything helps anymore.

Finish the work. Push Andy the fuck away. Far away.

And then ?

Watch Athena. Cuddle her. Watch her fade.

And then ?

Hazel briefly talked to me yesterday about this. You should get a smaller dog. One that's easier to look after, keep up with.

It, and many other things, had already crossed my mind. But I am too ill. Too inconsistent. That door has closed.

You will have no structure she said. No reason to get up.

I know. I know the consequences of not having a dog. I will disappear. In short order. Give up the very last straw holding me down. And then spiral. And disappear.

I am acutely aware of how it plays out.

I said perhaps instead I would get a lease of exploration instead. Go do stuff. Explore.

But.

Unlikely.

Very unlikely.

My Aunty Jan thinks you need a plan said Hazel.

Yeah. She's right.

I'm not sure I want a plan. I am not sure that it's not ok. That I disappear. It's not like I am enjoying myself.

We lapsed into silence and watched the mutts.

The thought passed through my head unspoken, that I'd like to die when Athena goes.

There is nothing left for me here anymore.

Maybe, maybe, just the shitty tinted spectacles. Everything is dark and doom. Perhaps there is a better day tomorrow. Keep on keeping on.

Feels hollow. That's the point thought isn't it. It will.

Who knows.

I am a super poor bet, either mentally or physically. Both together ? Uh huh.