Hopefully Someday I’ll Have Something Happy to Write About…

I really would prefer to just live the rest of my life as an inpatient surrounded by people who empathize rather than judge, ostracize, and exclude. It was my first time in a psychiatric institution, and I must say it was wonderful. The most fascinating part was how different our life experiences and disorders were and yet how deeply similar we were. We had different brains, different memories, different thoughts, but we had the same souls. We were all secretly relieved to be in a place where we didn’t have to be afraid of everything. There were a wide variety of disorders to treat. Depression, Bi-polar disorder, schizophrenia, GAD, on and on. Personally, I suffer from mild asperger syndrome, PTSD from childhood trauma, and acute depression. There is almost certainly a connection between all of them. No one there had the disorders I had or the life I had, thank god. But it didn’t matter because we were all feeling the same thing. When I spoke in group people looked at me like I was reading their minds. I fantacized about living in a world with only people who were sick like me. I wondered how much less painful depression would be without the social pressures. I’m forced to crave social interaction, romantic interactions, forced to interact with people for things as basic as food. But they hate me. They fear me. I don’t blame them. I would be afraid of me too. I wouldn’t want to be around myself if i didn’t have to. It isn’t their fault. It’s probably my fault in some way. But more likely it’s no body’s fault. There’s no one to blame, just kneeling in the mud screaming at the sky during a thunderstorm begging god to strike you dead to end the torture. It ‘s just the world I was thrust into.
I saw the train rush by. My first thought was Einstein’s paper on special relativity and his whimsical train thought experiments. Ahh such lovely summer evenings pondering spacetime and trains floating through the ether. My second thought is how much force will a commuter train will impart to me, and how much is enough to sever my spine. You wouldn’t want to leap in front of a train as the air wave might throw you off. Not a quasistatic system, your trajectory would be unpredictable. Or the train might just hit your arms or legs and throw you to the side. You would have to lie down on the tracks positioning your spine orthogonally to the tracks. Head under the train? Or maybe on the other side of the tracks so my neck will be under the train. The velocity of the train is less than the velocity of nerve impulses so pain will be felt. The nerve impulse of pain will travel to my brain from my spine as the train wheel crushes flesh and muscle then bone. Only for moments though. The pain is still less this way. How would I even time it? The conductor will use the air brakes if he sees me. Insufficient velocity of the train will prevent death and cause severe damage and pain. Why does this have to be so fucking complicated? I never wanted to be here. You don’t want me to be here, you exile me. And yet you won’t let me leave. You exile me with your every glance. But you won’t let me leave. You exile me with the tone of your voice, the coldness of your gait as you walk around and away from me. I’m so ashamed. I’m so ashamed that I’m me. It’s humiliating, I hate it. I feel a thousand eyes burrowing into my neck. “Yes, yes. I know. I know. I know I’m broken and worthless please stop staring. I already feel ashamed please stop staring. I’m sorry, I’d stop being me if I could please stop staring. I used to be normal I swear, you would have like who I really am. No, I’m wrong. He was weird too, you would have stared at him too.” I want to leave you alone, I don’t want to be here. No, I don’t want your help you can’t do anything. Just leave me be. that’s it right there. im broken, fully broken. out of my control, nothing left. death would just be a formality at this point. sdfjsoijbnlsdnvdslnksd. it doesn’t matter what I type, what I write, what I achieve, do, express. I’ll just end up sitting on a bench fantasizing about throwing myself in front of the next train. Nothing will ever come of it. I could type monkey monkey monkey over and over again and it would bring me just as much joy. It would improve my life or help you understand me just as much. 26 years of backbreaking soul draining soldiering on for what. I have to struggle, fight myself while fighting the whole goddamn world for every tiny second of contentment. On top of that I toil, work, plan, think, try. I put myself out there vulnerable and weak, completely at your mercy time and time again for you to land the hardest blow you can in my most tender spot. The pain is unbearable each time. 26 years of working my brain and heart to the bone for what? This moment right now when the only thing I can bring myself to cherish and look forward to is how peaceful and effective helium axphixiation will be. Well back to inpatient I go. Hopefully I won’t have to leave this time.


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