Shitty situations

Feeling manic. Mania might be good for me. Alas - I have had the shitties 3 weeks of my life where I think I lived and died 3 times and 3 times they have ressurected me just to kill me again. This is awful. Alas. Perservere.

Miss the days when I was a non-factor in anyone’s life. Now there’s this pressure on me to hold it all together. I just wanna explode. Expunge. Eradicate the semblance of self.

There’s this rage that just makes me want to lash out against myself and the world. But what is the point? I shall do nothing but hinder the world I have built. Unless the world I have built is the one I do not desire anyway, then that would make it okay in some books.

Trying to find the issue in my mental. Is it even an issue? No idea. Feeling as if nothing matters in this world but the present moment. It has me scheming and pondering and planning out my next move.

Why even plan. Could I have predicted my dad shitting himself at 20:39 on a wednesday? Or someone who I cherished dearly telling me they have abandoned every idea of themselves wanting to be with me despite not wanting to hurt me?

That’s my point. There is no point in planning almost. You just make the best move you can make at any point in time. Make the best moves and you never know where you might turn up.

Tonight feels like a night where I could write all night. In nights all the darkness comes out. Like all the shit that has been festering. All the things you don’t say out loud to the people you spend time with. You don’t tell them what annoyed you. You say it to yourself in nights like this.

There’s this weird relationship within me with myself. Proud of everything that I’ve become. For real. Cannot doubt that I’ve become an ok dude. But it’s quite tiring. It’s quite tiring being an ok dude. Feeling a bit like a dead body right now.

Makes you wonder at times, what if? What if what? Your brain cannot possibly predict an outcome for the things you have full stakes in, let alone for the things that rely on cooperation with different people. What if they ask what if? Shit gets messy real fast. What if they never end up in contact with you? Do you ever wonder about their say in this twisted relationship with you?

I wish I bit the bullet.

Past 3 weeks have been the weeks in which I have thought about suicide the most in the past 3 years. That’s the verdict that’s coming to me now. The thought of that makes me feel nothing. There’s nothing in me that would be willing to do it. But I feel rather violent I must say.

Mania has stopped. Resume normal protocol.

Then / now