another path on a mountain made of grief

So, um. My mom died yesterday. It wasn't quite unexpected; the doctor's face when she was first diagnosed with cancer last year spoke volumes, and when we got the biopsy report telling us it was metastatic last week we figured it was the beginning of the end. 

Just didn't figure it'd be so soon.

I've been sitting in grief for a while, for many many things, so this was just.. it's more grief. More sadness then lamentations really. I wish mom had a better life and she got that quiet life she wanted before she had to go. In particular, I hate the idea that she was in terrible pain in her last moments.

But, she's at peace now. That's what I'd like to think. I don't share her faith or her spirituality, and to be quite frank, we've never really had the sort of relationship she wanted out of a family, but what parts of me actually still think of her as my mom hopes that she's finally found the peace that she always wanted. 

 Rest now, ma. See you if I see you.  

I dreamed about you, and that it was all okay. That you walked up to me even when i was afraid to approach, and you took my hand and said it was alright.

It was a lovely dream. Happy for a few minutes that didn't exist.

Now I'm awake and I'm remembering how everything is, and how this is on me, and I'll be alright, i guess- my heart is just caught off guard and needs to hurt for a while. 

Lonely and dead inside. Just waiting for the end.

-----

...man, that just. Yeah. Okay that unreasonably hurt and it shouldn't but i guess it gets me in my self worth. Ah well.

Nothing, really. I guess.

something something ticking time bomb

It has been a particularly rough year, and the upcoming one is one I am not looking forward to. At all. Broke, unemployed, and depressed as all fuck.

Who knows, maybe this will be the year i finally send it in.

Cheers.

I miss you so much that it hurts. But if your life is better without me in it, it really is the least I can do, after all the things I've put you through.

There is a thing that happens where I feel hopeless. Not so much because of how my life is going, or because of the circumstances, but simply because of who I am. 

I hung out with a couple of people today. Should have been nice, little bit of socialization, little bit of catching up, reaching out. And all it did was remind myself that I can barely afford to do that sort of thing even. I can't even go out for dinner with people in my life without taking a long hard look at my finances and second-guessing whether I want to do this or not. And then there's the social aspect where right after, I just. Feel alone. 

Lonely, I guess? Maybe. I don't know. But alone. A lot.

It is my fault, I suppose. A situation of my own making, borne of my own selfishness and insecurity and it's so far deep now that I just cannot come out of it without pain that I am not willing to deal with.

And that brings me to the second feeling of today

Where I feel like a second class citizen in my own life, and this insecurity fuels my tendency to sabotage myself and to be honest, over the years, I've done my best to try to look past it. I've tried to be more confident and let myself have things but god sometimes I just catch a long, hard look at myself in the mirror and nothing but revulsion fills me because I see nothing but a tired creature, a waste of space on this world and in people's lives, and this feeling, I've tried to set aside but sometimes, a little nick in the shield shows and that's all it takes for it to collapse and i'm

I'm tired. It's a period in life where most people are learning to settle in their skins and I just want to tear mine open and fling the bloody innards into the sea where everything in it will be lost forever and just not be anyone's fucking problem anymore

There is no benefit to my existence. I shouldn't be here. This, I've felt for the longest time. 

I have been writing here for over two decades now, I realize. A lot of it worthless. This started out as a way to keep in touch with my friends- share stories with them because I wanted to share my life with people I care about and none of those people are here anymore. Not in a way that they'd still want to hear the stories of my life anymore, at least, I think. Do they? Would they? I honestly don't know. I feel like I'm in many people's lives now simply because they haven't excised me. Not because I'm someone wanted in their lives.

Lord knows it's happened. And in ways that hurt profoundly. Few things hurt like being cut out of the life of someone you hold close to your heart. But I understand. I have been a ruinous creature. I let myself become ruinous. One bad decision after another fueled by my anxiety, my self-sabotage, my selfishness. 

I wonder what will happen after I go. Will people find my stories, I wonder. Will they read them? The godawful cringe of a teenager trying to find his way in the world. The resignation as life quickly overtakes me and the over a decade of me just incoherently screaming into the void because I eventually decide that my story is not one worth telling. No one reads this anyway. I looked at my analytics and no one's here. No one has been, for a very long time. There's the occasional viewer.

But that's alright, I guess. I am. Very used to being alone. Of course it hurts, sometimes. Especially when I am reminded that I have nowhere that feels safe, nowhere that feels like home. Some of it beyond my control, sure. Some of it my fault.

That moment where I realized that the hardest moments in my life, I didn't really have anyone standing by me. Where I did make attempts to reach out and people just looked on. Not their fault, I guess. Some people don't know how to help. Some people didn't want to help. And it's.. no one's fault. Really. Maybe mine. 

I feel like a creature made of broken glass, with some pieces large enough to hold onto without getting cut maybe but ultimately not something that can be held anymore

Shards held together not even by spite anymore but simply just because it hasn't fallen over yet.

I have fucked this life. I don't even feel like it is worth salvaging anymore. Pining and pain, and I don't even have it in me to hate anymore. 

Well. I think that's all I have in me today. I think that's the most coherent I've been in a while. Which.. isn't saying much. One would say I should maybe go to therapy, but. Therapy is expensive, right. And I don't even think I want to be here anymore. I just want to go. And nothing has convinced me otherwise, in a long while.

I shouldn't have made it out of the hospital.

Ah. Yeah, that's it, i've regressed to one liner laments. Thanks, blog. And, anyone who happens to chance on this. I should try to sleep. Maybe I'll feel better after I've had some rest, but I doubt it.

Stupidly, tiredly lonely. There is.. a quiet kind of relief in the hopelessness though. The feeling that there's no point in the struggle. 

I'm tired. There is no one to care. It's just me here now, and

It would have been nice, to feel that again. And know it was for real. To feel like I was wanted, that someone wanted me in their life, and not just because it was comfortable, or familiar, or. 

The feeling that there was space for me in their life. That they held for me like i would hold for them and

I wish i didn't know what it was like. 

I wish i could keep pretending.

Lonely. I could go. It wouldn't matter.