When I die, fuck it, I want to go to hell...
13 September, 2004 :: 2:57 p.m.
I want to split in two (at least) because I'm not ok and I don't know how to be ok...
I almost broke down at work last night...but that's nothing new; I've been almost breaking down at work for quite a while now. Truth is I wish I could.
I realized that the first few hours of EVERY night for...I dunno, the last month or two, I spend it thinking about how miserable I am, how miserable my life is. I think about how much I really want to just end it because it's all bullshit and whether I live or die another day doesn't amount to shit. I think about it from all different angles...whether I should pack up in the middle of the night and take off for parts unknown first and end things in a place I don't know and no one knows me; whether I should just go out on some back country road around here; sometimes I just say fuck it and do it at home because I'm selfish and I don't have to deal with the aftermath...
I'm not suicidal; it's not going to happen; there is just part of me that wants to die. There's always the part of me that has so many different reasons for not wanting death...living means dealing with a ton of shit, but then there are small things and some larger things that occasionally make it seem worthwhile. That part of me used to calm the part of me that wants to die...now they are becoming two very distinct voices and the one no longer wants to hear the pro-life reasons; it just wants to cease to be.
I've never felt like one cohesive personality, but the distinctions are greater now...it's like several different personalities with distinct voices fighting over who gets to run things. Before the personality came out to deal with whatever situation I was in and that was that...if I was with a girlfriend or a friend, my personality that wants that came out and dealt with it; if I was alone, the morose me came out and took his turn; I don't have a public personality, just one who copes with doing things I don't want to do which would come out...or maybe that's when the others all simply retreated and that was just the empty shell going through the motions...I don't know...even trying to write this there's different voices giving different interpretations to how I feel and what is happening to me.
I think maybe I was on to something with the empty shell...there's the part of me that functions as mediator between the other voices, who has no personality of his own. He may not have personality, but he's very good at keeping things together...he's the director in a way I suppose. He lets a few of the better behaved personalities take turns running things; the ones who can't be trusted stay in their cells, but they are still free to shout their ideas and try to persuade one of the other personalities to listen. In all seriousness I want to just go mad...I want the director to leave and let the lunatics run the asylum...what's the worst that could happen? It seems like it would be truly liberating to stop suppressing things and just let my mind go where it wishes instead of trying to be responsible, trying to live life the way society wants me to...and if you're mad, you aren't responsible for anyone or anything...
This entry is far from a place I should stop at, but again I'm sick of typing and I have to go be responsible.