May 20, 2010

Hiding: Day 35 (severe reactive episode)

I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me or try to "talk me down" or describe to me how dire the situation is or try to illustrate the reality for me or threaten to call someone or tell me how much I have to live for or offer anything I need. I don't want to hear how much they need me or how selfish it would be to hurt myself.

I'm aware, I know, and these thoughts and feelings and truths do have weight and they're added burden. Like even bad publicity is good publicity. It's momentum. Even good touch is bad touch because it's contact and stimulation, or instigation to action or impact. Yes, impact. And I can't take any more impact.

What would be all right is neutral observation. Knowing I'm not alone, but I can be left alone to suffer the pain until either it heals itself or I respond to it.

Numb now. After writing some. But still recalling how he told me something I already know, that he's unhappy and can't take me.

Of course you can't. I can't take me. But I'm beyond rehabilitation. Or renovation or reprogramming or repair. You didn't have to tell me the awful truths I already know, that I'm as despicable to you as I am to me. You didn't have to confirm that the only person who can tolerate me, can't really.

Now, the last reason to try to weave into society is gone. At least alone, I'm not faced with imposing on anyone in any way, ever. I can never be hurt by the knowledge I'm hurting anyone else.

I'm perfectly capable of living without expectation. I can make no demands. I can let live.

At this moment, I wish I'd never been born. I disagree: sometimes, it's better to have never lived than to have lived and loved, and been loved.


If I were in the hospital, then there would be nothing to do but be sick and wait to heal. That sounds like the most appealing situation for me. And if Miner hadn't brought up the subject of money or further "complications," I would've already gone to the ER and checked myself in. I would've already put myself in the hands of professionals so they could manage my mental and physical health since I can't do it myself.

It's like living each hour with an excruciating toothache. And no dental insurance. Or no dentist trained to do anything about it.

You know Dad used to pull his own teeth.