Aug 21

 Thought about going into the city today. To pick up a new mac. Not that I want to. I dislike macs at the best of times. And these days. I absolutely loathe them. Overpriced hipster pieces of arch capitalist crap. The fact that Apple has taken to soldering in both memory and hard drives is just infuriating. There is no good reason for this. None. Nada. Zip. It makes no difference to performance. It makes no difference to manufacturing. But with them soldered in, once the bit goes, so the machine goes. Given that some SSDs can blow out within a few years, this is diabolical.

How Apple still gets away with this bullshit is anyones guess. Albeit they have recently lost their case versus right to repair ( targeting exactly this kind of predatory bullshit ). Time will tell how or even if they bother to follow the ruling.

As it stands. If I want a mac. I need one of the shitty welded in overpriced pieces of shit.

I have no choice if I want to start working on iOS apps again. Because. Apple are leveraging monopolistic rights on compiling code. Something that Microsoft have been punished for in the past. Again. How Apple gets away with this is anyones guess. Big bagfuls of lobbying cash injected straight into the utterly corrupt US political class no doubt.

Meh.

Anyway. Technical rant aside.

I thought about going into the City to pick one up. I judged how shit I felt. So so.

On a whim, probably a mistake ( Definitely a mistake ), I asked Hazel if she wanted to tag along.

There proceeded a conversation about Poppy. She was dragging her feet about taking her to a vet. I am not sure why. Probably because of a) money and b) didn't want to get the bus to go to the vet and c) the usual fucky mindstuff. In any case. I told her she needed go to a vet.

So in the end I didn't go into the city. I took Hazel to the vets. And it was fine. Ish. At first. I was calm on the outside. On the inside I kept getting hit by severe sads.

On getting to the vet and sitting in there it hit me like a ton of bricks.

It was very much like reliving the whole Athena thing all over again. At one step removed. All the mud was stirred up. Everything came right up to the surface. Everything triggered. The vet. The waiting. Oh. I belatedly realised. It would seem. I have some serious fucking lingering trauma with vets and dogs and that shit. I am. Unready. It seems. Oops. Trauma flashbacks.

It fucked me up. And pushed me down hardcore. I stayed silent. But I dropped to the bottom. Nothing seemed important. Just misery. Everything was pointless. Just. Fucking. Breathing. For no reason. The world narrowed to nothing, everything had turned black. I see a red door and I want to paint it black goes the song. Yeah. Close. The door does its own painting however. It just turns black. As does everything else.

I teared up badly. Sitting. Waiting for the vet. Despite me fighting them. A couple of tears sneaked out. Drip. Sigh.

I let Hazel go in alone, the room was pretty tiny - we went to one of the big vet chains attached to the superstores. Personally, I wouldn't use them. But eh. They are ok.

As the door closed, I hunched over and took a big shaky breath in. Yikes. yikesyikesyikes. So very sad. I concentrated on breathing. Just breathe. Let it go. Don't think about it. Let it go. Jesus Christ. Breathe. Let the hurt go.

Hazel came out with some meds - I knew the stuff, of course, seen that, been there, got the t shirt. And a follow up booking at some point in the near future for a set of x rays.

Uh huh.

We went home silent.

Are you ok Hazel said as we passed through the vet door.

I paused.

I have nothing to say. I have mulled over my response to this question in recent times. I can't say I am fine. Or I will be fine. At the same time I don't want to communicate that no, I am not fine. So. I have nothing to say. Because what will it fucking matter anyway.

I opted in the end for a stupid pleasantry.

I'll be fine.

No. I wont be fine. But lets say that.

Got Hazel home. She asked again if I was ok. I shrugged. I Didn't say anything. What does it matter if I am ok. What are you going to do about it ? What is anyone going to do about it ? Nothing. So. Why say anything. A shrug. That's it.

Is there anything I can do she said.

Again. What are you going to do ? I could do with all the hugs in the world. I could do with all the support in the world. I could do with so many things. Help. Healthcare. Love. Someone that will let me curl into a ball and stand guard and tell me it will be ok and pick me up and look after me until I feel better.

I know I will get none of it.

And that no one has the time or the care to do so. Everyone busy. In their own lives. Own problems. Life is shit.

So. No. There is nothing you can do. Not because there isn't anything you can do. But because I know the reality. And how that works. And if I have learned anything in my brutal scrapings along the bottom recently, it is that no one is going to save me, I am not going to get help, and that's just how it is. Suck it up. I go out of my way to help others. Case in point. Taking Hazel to the vets across the city, at great fucking emotional cost. I ask for nothing. Expect nothing. I do it. Because it's a good thing to do. But I know. That shit doesn't come back the other way.

All that thinking, precompiled. But in the moment, in the car, I said nothing. But shook my head. No. Nothing you can do.

You just want to go home huh she said.

I suppose so I said. The first thing I had said since the vets 15 minutes away.

No. Not really I thought. Nowhere I can go to outrun life. No matter what I do it will be the same. But again. I said none of it. What is the point. There is no fucking point. Inane fucking social pleasantries whilst you disappear down the plughole.

No one wants to know. Because it makes people sad.

It is better in the end, just to shut my mouth. Say nothing. Just. Get on with sitting with my demons. Sit in my hole.

I went home. I was very sad. Deep. Hopeless. Sad. An intrusive thought of just running the car off the road and ending it all right there popped into my head on the drive home.

As I got back in my door my head was spinning. And for that split second, I had that instinctive reaction that I would get jumped at the door by a happy pupper - be careful they dont run outside ! A reflex reaction baked in over 14 years. A split second. No. No dogs. Remember ?

I ended up playing a game for a shortwhile with a friend. Dead inside. He told me about his day. Playing laser tag with the kids in his care. It sounded fun. And positive. An 18 year old volunteer in his employ said that it was the best day she had ever had. Lovely. Genuinely.

But not for me.

Eh well.

Life sucks.

And yes.

I don't want to be here.

My sister said she would come visit end of August maybe. I have an old ipad here for one of my great nieces that needs picking up.

I cannot muster the energy nor enthusiasm to go down and visit. It feels like. Me. Putting myself out there. Again. I. Can't do it. I am tired.

I am heavily leaning on blocking my sister coming up. Just. Don't.

I am tired. And not super well. And more than anything. Just not in the mood. I drift in and out of terrible sadness, and then into a zombie mode. With some epic level masking when playing a game or two. But I am dead inside. And today has just hardened that up to granite. The impenetrable walls are up. And I don't feel inclined to share any of where I am. Or rather. Having people not want to see it. And for me to put on that social mask. And face. For everyone else. Whilst I die inside. Because god forbid you make other people sad. I am tired. And I am tired of people.

So.

I don't want to do that.

I am sad. And horrible.

And I don't want to have to exert energy to protect people from that. Or have to put up with them being dicks about it. Or me witnessing yet another interaction where someone just skims how sad I am and does fuck all to help.

Go away.

Leave me alone.

If you are going to do nothing except make my life fucking harder because you wont accept where I am, let alone fucking help, then FUCK OFF. I am sick of having to revolve around everyone elses fucking lives.

I will be alone.

An old part of me is well used to sitting in the dark alone. It is something I haven't done in many years. I had lost touch with it. The bit of life inbetween, the dogs, girlfriends. Was the bump in the middle. I am back to an earlier self. One well used to sitting and talking with my demons. Oh. I remember.

I think that's where I need to be. Just. Left alone.

I have gone full circle.

This. Is pushing everyone away hardcore. That grief. And fury. And rejection. And exhaustion. And complexity.

Meh.

Leave me alone.

Today, was not a good day.

I am going to retreat to bed. Watch some TV in the dark. It is quiet there. I don't have to pretend to anyone. No one lets me down. I don't get to see the indifference in others. I don't have to experience how little care people can give. I can just be me. Alone. But calmer. I will take alone over rejection. It is less frustrating and more peaceful.