Life

I can’t help thinking how fragile life is, and how invincible we feel at times. Seeing my younger brother lying in a coffin really brought home how vulnerable we really are, and how precious life is, not just us to but to everyone around us. I’ve never really been scared of dying before, but now the thought of death is what keeps me awake every night, making me feel anxious and paranoid that something else bad is going to happen to me or someone close to me. I’m not scared of dying for myself but for the people who would be left behind. In my opinion death is the end, once you’re dead there’s no more pain or suffering for you, only for the living. And if I’m wrong and there is an afterlife, then there’s nothing to fear really, but of course we will never know the truth in this life. I hope I’m wrong, I’d love to see my brother again and put right all the mistakes I feel I made with him, and him with me. I’ll always regret not getting to know him better, and I want to give that message to others, to really appreciate your friends and family, because one day they may not be there and then you won’t be able to tell them all the things you wanted to. 

Fuck You, mind.

I can’t understand why my brain won’t accept the reality of what has happened recently. My brother is dead, I saw him lying lifeless at the hospital, I saw him lying lifeless in his coffin, I saw his coffin being lowered in to the ground and I threw a rose upon it, yet part of me refuses to believe it. I see a picture of him and i just expect him to walk through the door like nothing has happened. 

In one day

Well today has been a strange day. Woke up crying. Had a pep talk from my parents which made me motivated. Got a few things done and felt really pleased with myself. Carried on with my job application. Hit a snag on the maths test part of it, realised I’m incredibly unintelligent, now feel like I’m a useless piece of fucking shit who’s never going to get a job. Not a bad variety of feelings for one day really. 

Scrambled Thought Processes

There are two things in my life that make me feel normal… Ketamine, and my boyfriend. When my boyfriend isn’t around I take ketamine to feel normal. When I’m alone I just sit in my room begging for the motivation to get a job, to be productive to feel better about myself but it never comes. I want to buy a diary to write in, instead of writing things online but I can’t even fathom the energy to write with a pen, typing is easier. I don’t have to look at the page when I’m writing and the letters form themselves. I don’t take drugs because I want to, I take them because I can’t cope with having so little energy and feeling so useless and self loathing. I used to care about the detrimental effects that ketamine will ultimately have on my bladder but right now I don’t really care. The conflict in my brain is that I do want to care, and I do want to have the energy to do things but I just don’t know how. Reading off A Level psychology here (which, by the way I failed)… I think I’ve learned to feel like this and so perhaps a bit of CBT might help. The only problem with this however is that it does trivialize my problems, and you have to overcome the initial laziness (for lack of a better word) in order to go to the doctors to get medication (not CBT) or to go to a counselling service. I don’t want to ask for help because I don’t know if what I’m feeling is genuine or if it’s just self obsession or self pity. Perhaps everyone feels like this and actually I’m normal, but the difference is that other people just aren’t lazy useless cunts like me. I know drugs don’t help the situation and I’m not a full blown addict I can honestly say (i’m a young 20 year old guy who comes from a good home, with happy supportive friends around me) but they do provide a short pleasurable release, and until I start to feel better I can’t see me stopping doing it. My friends I should probably mention, nearly all have their own problems to deal with, and to burden them with my own would be simply unfair. Problems such as drugs, self harm, depression, suicidal thoughts etc, yet on the outside we all come across as happy happy people. Unlike my friends, who seem to do it for recreational purposes, a drugged up night out for me is an escape from the boring, depressing daily situation that is my life.

…A short little footnote in case anyone on the internet reads this- I expect this post is probably very disorganized and muddled as coincidentally I am currently a bit off my face (apologies), but I hope you get the general gist of it. There’s also probably a lot of contradictions in this post so apologies for that too, I guess it just ties in with the title of this post.

What did I just write?! EEEEEEEEEEEEK! 

Flatmates

Every time I hear someone shout or bang or make a load of noise it makes me feel like I’m gonna explode inside, but on the outside I just sit and stare blankly at the wall. Same with anything that stresses me out actually. I need to get a stress ball or a punch bag or something. Oh they’re doing it again. SHUT THE FUCK UP. This flat is gonna drive me insane eventually.