day by day, depression, futility, humour, light in the darkness, music, sense of humour, surviving
Still not time for total darkness and despair. I promise, I promise, I’ll get to it soon enough… in the meantime, though…
So, I think I’m gonna kill myself. Cause a little suicide…
That’s a line (2 lines?) from a song, if you didn’t know. An old song, I guess. Older than me, anyway, and I feel pretty old at 30. Old enough to feel so past it there’s no point in trying anymore, and old enough to feel like I’m *already*–at the age of 30–taking more than I give back. I feel old–or useless, or hopeless, or pointless, or careless–enough to think maybe I should just stop trying altogether. Do one last thing and do it right, by taking 100 paracetamol (acetaminophen), or jumping in front of a high-speed train, or getting into a hot bath and cutting myself open from wrists to elbows.
Listening to the above song helps, actually, and I can give a possible explanation for that. I read once that every time you say something, your subconscious tells you the opposite (because it’s a contrary little bastard that only exists to contradict everything it hears–hey, maybe I’m actually the subconscious of some larger, multi-celled organism, and that’s why I’m such a douchebag….). Anyways, your subconscious:
So, you say: “Hmm, I fancy going to see ‘American Hustle’.”
Your subconscious goes: “What about ‘The Smurfs 2’?”
You say: “I’m not really hungry, I had a late lunch.”
Your subconscious goes: “I don’t know, those ribs smell pretty good.”
You say: “I don’t know what to do, I think I might end it all.”
Your subconscious rolls its eyes and goes: “Oh, who are you kidding?”
And in the end, I sort of agree with my subconscious, because it’s just so relentless. It just will not give up. It keeps insisting whatever it’s insisting, and I’m in no fit state to argue, really, at least not at the minute, and so in the end, I just give in.
Me: “I guess things are okay, really.”
Subconscious: “Mmm, I didn’t say THAT exactly.”
Me: “Yeah, but there’s nothing really wrong….”
Subconscious: “There’s ALWAYS *something* wrong.”
Me, defeated: “So I guess I should just kill myself?”
Subconscious, smugly: “Oh, who are you kidding.”
*sigh* I give up.
Or do I?