Apr 16

 Heating is halfway through being ripped out of the house. Installed called off sick today. So. Today has been a limbo day. Old one half ripped out. New one half installed.

Yesterday was difficult dealing with someone noisy in my space. I did not feel well yesterday. So. That compounded it. And not being able to drink for most of the day absolutely killed me. If I had had a better day I doubt it would have been much of an issue. On an iffy day. It's not good.

Today I feel a bit more stable. A little better. Bad. But better. I have got much worse. My capabilities have shrunk right down. No doubt my lack of activity is somewhat feeding the beast, just speeding it all up. The hydration salts are - at least - keeping the worst of the demons away from the mornings. I can actually wake up in a slightly functional state as opposed to being a disaster. But still. Difficult all round.

That quiet peace thing has returned stronger. Not the peace of contentment. The peace of oblivion. It's that same theme that has been kicking since February. Defeat. Hopelessness crystalised into some kind of fatalistic end state. There is a peace in there. It has not escaped my notice there is a similar peace and sometimes even joy when people decide to commit suicide. It can be one of the warning signs. Someone suddenly cheers up. The psychology is easy. It is the release of all the suffering, an understanding that it is going to shortly end. This is what the therapist saw in me back in February. Held me over at the end of a session assessing how I was doing. "doing".

I am not talking to anyone about it. I am keeping it quiet. By and large not sharing where I am. I don't think people really want to know. Why would they. Same old shit. Life is for living. Not recounting of countless miseries. Albeit. That hypocritical flip side of the coin. I have all the time in the world for people telling me their pain. But. I think I'm weird in that regard. Part of the pattern of dysfunction, albeit, you can paint that as largely a "beneficial" one. Patience.

There is a quiet calm feeling with it. No seeking of saviour. No looking for ways out. Just a very final. No. It's good. I could go. It makes sense all round. No other answers. It's fine. It fits. We all have to go. Not if. But when.

There is a calmness there to it that I've never had before. A glass like smooth lake surface. No ripples. No churn. No pushback. Just. Zen. Probably a very bad sign.

No doubt the winds will shift a little and it will pass. Probably. Maybe. Perhaps.

I dreamed of my mutts yesterday. Fun and games. Their bouncy joyful spirits. It has been more than 2 years since I got a thanking kiss from Athena from the rear seat of the car. 4 years since Ares has butted heads with me softly in acknowledgement. I watch other peoples dogs. See the same spirit in them. It's from a life I had but no longer have. I think. I am better with it now. I have come to terms with the fact that it's gone. And I won't have it again. It doesn't change it. Or the weight of it. But. I am not railing against it anymore. It just is. It fits with the sense of defeat about everything. Stopped struggling.

Really. I just want to curl up. And slowly fade out. I am barely interacting with the world. Where I do. It's like a mask. The part you play on stage.

I think I have given up on so many things.

Given up on ever being well. Given up on ever having hopes or plans or dreams or being able to do things. Given up on finding someone to share space with. Given up on having someone or something love me unconditionally. Given up on finding meaning. Or finding kindness within touching distance. Of being able to force a little bit of the world to my will, be it job, or care or financially. Of creating anything. Just. Everything about me. Has stopped. There is a bare tickle of noodling in a game. It is. My very last straw of the fundamental me. The lowest effort.

For me. Life is an odd thing. It has always been disjointed for me. Never quite fit. Sometimes dramatically so. Sometimes able to paper over the cracks. I think perhaps a lot of people go through life faking being an adult. But I have never quite fit. Perhaps. This is the whole neurodivergent struggling in mainstream malarkey. Or maybe its just the human condition. The therapist tends to lean heavily to the former. The cost of masking who I am continually. Always code switching. Always shifting to someone elses space.

I find myself drifting away from people. I have stopped talking again. I have given up talking to my family. It is. The quiet in me. Tamping everything down to silence. I have withdrawn. Not entirely. Not quite. Not yet. But drastically reduced. And I feel no urge to do otherwise. That quiet. That peace. Of nothing.

I've not left the house in nearly 2 weeks. And the last time I did was therapy day. And before that. Was a week and a half. I've been out twice in a month. The outside feels a little surreal. I am not used to it. I am aware this is Not Good. I have a little anxiety about going out anywhere. But more than that. I don't want to. I can't even be engaged to get the groceries I need. Just. Leave it. Be still. Be silent. The quiet.

Hmm.

In the back of my head. I am always plotting ending it in "just a few days time". It's the quiet backstop. Which I know is a terrible thing to do. Been there. Done that. Did not end well. I am not even doing it consciously. Just. No drama. No argument. It's ok. We can die in a few days. No problems then.

I come up with rational arguments like - just need to get the heating sorted. Pay the bill. Then I'm free. Can end it. Don't want to leave the heating guys in the lurch. Genuinely. This idea has passed through my head multiple times.

I'm sure. It will come to nothing. I will still be here. Probably. Endless. Stuck in the same miserable patterns. Shitty world. Shitty people. Making shitty calls. Stupidity. Frogs in boiling water. And that's just the environmental pressures let alone my internal ones.

Stupid planet. Stupid species. Stupid life.

Given the choice. I would never have been born.

I read something a good while ago about that. About responsibilities. Parents. Sometimes parents demand to be looked after. The flip side is that kids don't get a choice about being brought into the world. That is very much a selfish decision on the parents side. And that. Means there is a duty of care - if nothing else - for parents to kids. At least, so goes that logic. I can see the ethics of it. And the dangers of having kids as some sort of hedge insurance to look after you in your old age. That's. Not how it should work. The duty is the other way around. I guess. Context. Reciprocal. Support given, support thanked for in support returned. In an ideal situation it just works all round, mutual respect and care and love. In a broken one. That fucks up.

Perhaps. That's what colours me to the whole, I wish I wasn't born. If. You're going to treat me like that. And. The world being what it is. And my path through it. I'd have to be insane to sign up for that. I do think, coldly speaking, no emotions, my parents should never have had me. I think I was something of a commitment anchor baby. A means to an end. Very much less of a nurturing thing. And much more of a mercenary thing. Security. Stability. For everyone else. I was just the pain in the ass means to that end. And largely got treated like that. If never stated like that. An inconvenience. Then again. My siblings also got treated like an inconvenience. But. I think. That might have been the shape of things *after* my moms first marriage split. After that point. It was all about coping and inconvenience. Baggage. I think brutally this is absolutely how it works, cutting all the shit out of it. My moms first marriage collapses, a drunk and a gambler. Whatever notion of a normal life my mom has collapses. She is pushed into desperate straits trying to raise 2 kids on her own and work at a low paying job. Secures an awkward new guy. Gets commitment. Has me. All the kids are treated as annoying baggage. Father who absolutely doesnt understand how to be a parent. Mom who doesn't want to be a parent and is just in bitter coping mode. Father who is self obsessed and bitter and a depressive. Kids are a pain.

I think. That's the brutal shape of my family.

It has consequences.