sylvia plath was 31 when she killed herself

i’m going to tell you something. i fucking made this blog private for about an hour or two because i was like … fuck this. fuck anyone who reads this piece of shit. because i write this now to get something from all of you. i write it because i want something. approval. love. just the mere fact that someone is actually reading what i write and the idea that someone cares. that.is.fucking.pathetic.

what is even more fucking pathetic is what my life has come to. seriously. i “lost” my job today because i can’t …and should i even be writing this on here? i’m going to have to take this blog down really soon, because i need to get another job, people. soon.

but … anyway, i lost my job today. i really want to check myself into the psych ward, but i don’t have a friend in the world i can think to call that could watch my cat. nice. that’s so fucking great.

not to mention, really, who is my friend? i don’t know. i thought i had friends, they still seem to be my friends, i can’t tell. if i believe AA and i believe what my life looks like, this is all my fault anyway. because of the actions i take and the beliefs i hold and the way i treat people. and the way i’ve done that for my whole fucking life.

and a lot of that i do believe has been borne out of a life of defense mechanisms and things that have fucking kept my ass alive for years. and maybe THAT’S why i don’t want to do this 4th step. because i’m scared to death that if i don’t keep acting the way that i do, i’ll die. cause this is all i’ve ever known, and it’s kept me safe and whole in a troubled, troubled world.

but just like alcohol stops working for every alcoholic, this has stopped working for me, too. i have been ALONE in my house for days. days. no one calls. no one cares. no one really knows until i reach out, if i do. and even then, sometimes i don’t even get a call back. i got to talk to a couple of people on the west coast today; that helped tremendously.

but bottom line — this is on me. all my defense mechanisms that have served me so well, just like drugs and alcohol really WERE the solution for a long time — have stopped working. and i don’t know what the fuck to do. i don’t know how NOT to use them. they are what they are. they’re ingrained. they’re natural. they’re what i do.

and you know what’s so fucked up? what pisses me off to no end? who always gets me to see some sad, sad, sad truth about myself without even trying?

the reason i got over my last relationship is that i was desperately sad and lonely one time and i wrote to him and asked him just for something? i don’t even know what. and he said basically. no. we’re not friends. we’re exes and i will never be there for you, ever. and that was that. i got over him in a heartbeat. i realized that i couldn’t believe that someone could be so entirely cold to me after what time we DID spend together… that if i really, really DID need help, he would still look me in the virtual face and say: no. that’s why i can’t even dare to ask him to watch my cat while i go into the mental hospital. i’ve THOUGHT about it, but i know the answer. and i don’t.

and then tonight… we exchanged brief emails over the last 24 hours about something else and it led to me making the comment that i accepted that he had no intention of ever being there for me, but that i really wondered why we could never be friends. and you know what his answer was? two things. 1. that our personalities didn’t “fit well together.” and 2. that he didn’t want to be someone that i’d lean on, cause he’d eventually give way and i’d fall down.

you know what that says to me? and what has been said to me over and over and over and over and over by people at different times at different relationships at different periods in my life?

1. i don’t like how you are anymore (cause i guarantee our personalities fit PERFECTLY together, and nothing’s really changed about me since then)

and

2. you lean on people.

i said i wanted to be friends, hang out, see movies, take pictures….and he responds that he doesn’t want to be someone i’d lean on. that’s what he sees my friendship as. me leaning on him. sweet. i’m sure me laying in his bed for three days one may didn’t help that. i’m sure he’ll never forget it, and i know without a shadow of a doubt, it’s part of the reason we’re not friends.

but is it also the reason i don’t really have any other close friends right now? i have some friendships that i’m learning to rebuild and such, or trying.

but really. is that the deal? i’m a burden. i lean on people too much. i think i’m such a good friend and i do all of this and that and i’ll do anything for you, but really i expect way too fucking much. and i lean. and you disappoint me, because you’re human, and then what do we have?

same with any job i have. same with anything.

so, what’s left? i don’t know. sylvie got out a year or two ago. i just don’t know that i’m capable of change. i really don’t. my AA people have all these “tools” for change, and i don’t know that i know how to use them. i’ve been stuck on my 4th step for a year. it’s the searching and fearless step. it’s the one where i get honest with myself and see these things.

that i lean.
and that’s why people don’t want to be friends with me.

i’m not going anywhere. but i’m super sad that i’m so alone and i feel like such a failure and i keep doing the things that push people away and get me fired and keep me hopelessly depressed and unlikeable. at a core level.

people like me sort of. but down deep, i’m way too scary for them. it happens over and over and over.

yeah.

*****okay. it’s several days later. and everyone knows i’m not killing myself, right? so, i can re-post this. i wrote it, i felt it, i wasn’t killing myself then, i’m DEFINITELY not killing myself now. i’ve seen the psychiatrist since then (although he wasn’t a whole lot of help chemically; he raised one med of mine that i knew to raise myself. super.), and we talked about the hospital and it’s not necessary (besides as he put it, “the hospital isn’t even like it was 5 years ago. the people in there are much sicker.” oh.). things are VERY VERY slowly looking differently and changing. i need a job!, but i’m still packing and i’m starting VERY slowly to re-orient my thinking around AA a little.tiny.bit. my parents found out i lost my job, so that hurdle/anxiety is over, and now it’s time to get to work. still a lot of stuff to do, but things are moving somewhere different, i think. sigh. oh, and kind of wanting to kill yourself but having no plan or intention is called “passive suicidal ideation.” cool. i didn’t know that had a name.

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