Venting2

Today was a shitty day. I had no envy, no courage, nothing. I was…empty. I didn’t want to get up, I didn’t want to take my meds, I didn’t want anything.

I just accomplished my daily tasks, carefully placed reminders that I have things to carry out. A language course on the Internet. A shower. Dirty dishes. A phone-call from my mother, admitting that, no, I couldn’t go to class, again. Some made-up excuses why. A book. Plants.  

I’m functioning on auto-pilot. As a good robot, I don’t eat. I don’t eat until my bones feel cold, my head heavy, and my eyes blurry. I end up crouched on the floor, clutching my stomach, tears on my cheeks, pitifully whining.

I can’t win against that enormous pain. I eat – I suffer. I don’t eat – I suffer. It’s an endless cycle. The stress that is devoring me whole.

Except that not eating is more acceptable for me, because it makes me loose weight. People take that as a hint of good health. When you are big, even loosing 1kg is taken as extraordinary good news – when in fact it’s because you couldn’t summon the will to keep fueling yourself. Or worse, because you were actively trying to diminish what was left of you. 

You can’t disappear, your life is slipping away, so you control. You control the only sign of humanity in you: the limitless need to eat and defecate. You control sleep, you force yourself to binge on sleeping-pills and then stay awake. It’s the only thing keeping you sane. Being high on fucking sleeping-pills. How pitoyable. 

And then, at the end of the day, people insult you for what you are. They exclude you, they think you do not belong. They decide not to come to a social event because you said you’ll be there. 

On days like those… I wish I could take enough sleeping-pills to never wake up again. Just resting peacefully…no more judgements, no more obligations, no more human needs. I wish I could say I was staying alive for the sake of the people loving me – but their love feels fake in my dementia, and in fact, it’s only my own cowardness that is pushing me back to sleep…to face another day.