The important thing is always to learn. It doesn't matter what you're reading, what you're doing, as long as you're learning. Life is made up of stories, so always make sure to take stock of everything around you, and anything interesting that happens. It may someday make for a good story. But if it doesn't, it was still a learning experience. So go out, learn, live, and make a story worth telling.
The more people talk to me about my current situation, the worse I feel. My mom just called me, to see if I was feeling better. She wants me to beg bitch Christina for my job back, and the thought alone makes me feel like vomiting. Do I really want to stay at a place where my boss is trying everything in her power to ruin my life? I mean gods, I feel sick about going in to work tomorrow, about going in every day until next Sunday, pretending to every fucking person that I’m not dead on the inside. I seriously feel like I’m going to vomit because of this stuff, and I’m being literal there. No metaphorical vomit for me.
Just thinking about this whole bullshit situation is making me sick. I got zero sleep last night, so I called off from work today. I’m that bad off right now. But does anybody care that this job is destroying what little I have left? No, they’re trying to get me to feel less suicidal so that they can feel better. Fuck all this shit. Maybe I should go to the hospital. I keep wondering how many lithium I’d have to take before I was poisoned beyond repair, or if I could drown myself in the swimming pool before someone noticed. I’m wondering just what combination of chemicals under the sink I’d need to die the fastest. But does anybody care about that? No, they never do. They want me to feel better so they don’t have to bother worrying about me. This whole fucking world sucks. I don’t see why nobody will let me just die. I mean, it’s a simple request, right? If I’m dead, I won’t get abused by damn near every person I meet. I won’t feel so fucking lonely because nobody gives a shit. I won’t be taking advantage of constantly. I won’t hafta worry about how much I’m fucking up everybody else’s lives just by existing. I’ll stop fucking everything up, in fact. The world would be a much better place without me in it. I wish I had never been born, but since I can’t have that, I wish I were dead instead.
I’d go to the hospital right now, check myself in, but everybody would yell at me, get pissed off at me, and that would just make things worse. Pretty much any course of action I take, people will be pissed off at me. That’s pretty much all I do lately: piss people off. And anybody saying that I don’t is a fucking liar. Or they just don’t realize how much I fuck up everything. God fucking damnit, I want to be dead. I want this life to be over. I want oblivion, I want to not think, to not feel, to NOT FUCK EVERYTHING I TOUCH UP! But no, I’ll never get what I want. I’ll get the right help. Maybe the right help doesn’t exist.
I feel sick to my stomach again. I need to quit thinking about this shit. But since I have to be at work in the morning, it’s kinda hard to forget. I wish everybody wouldn’t get so damn pissed off at me for wanting to go to the hospital. It’s what I need, but I’m not allowed to go. Because I don’t know what I need. Everybody else knows what I need, and they’re going to force it on me every chance they get. But I don’t get to be right, I don’t get to know what the healthiest action for me to take would be. Don’t you get it? Everything I know is wrong, that’s what everybody always tells me. Every single fucking person on this planet loves to tell me just how fucking wrong I am. I want some razor blades, I want some poison, a lighter, anything. I want to be dead.
I will never be allowed to be me. I’m not even sure me exists any more. They’ve been telling me it’s wrong for so long. I wish I was allowed to go to the hospital. I want to be dead. Please, gods, let me die already.
