Saturday, 11 January 2014

Bubblegum variety pack

The days are beginning to repeat themselves. They are taking on the tone of chewing the same piece of bubblegum over and over, chewing the cud until all that remains in your mouth is a tasteless piece of rubber that is starting to make you jaw ache with the same repetitive action, one tasteless ache.
It’s days like these that make my thoughts about suicide become ever more common.
Why would someone do such a thing? From my own perspective it’s a way of alleviating stress and pressure from whatever is causing that stress and pressure, (see numerous blog entries for perspective on that) it stops worrying thoughts about the repetitive nature of the future and it stops well, everything.
‘But what about loved ones, friends and the music you love now? Doesn't that stop you?’
Sometimes it does but it can also become a prison from which I can’t escape. It can make me feel duty bound to stay for the sake of others. Sounds selfish I know but that’s how it can feel.
Other times I think that if I did the deed those reasons wouldn't matter anymore because I wouldn't matter anymore as I’d stop feeling and all of those things would become meaningless. I’d stop caring because I’d stop.
Harsh but then that’s suicide, harsh and it ruins everything but not for the person concerned.

Nobody knows

I didn’t sleep very well last night and so another chance to get to the gym went as I had nothing inside to get me out of bed. Again. The dreams that followed, if I’d known about them prior to that, would have as they centred solely on my former wife. They seem to be following a theme at the moment, these former wife dreams. The theme being reconciliation, a Hollywood style happy happy joy joy  reconciliation where its blue skies and perfect no crumbs in the butter, no inappropriate body noises living. As it went on it then morphed into a divorce and then morphed with her marrying again and for some reason me still being in the picture but her having no idea that it would have an effect on me. There were tears both in the dream and out of it as I woke up with them as well.
What am I to make of those mini head movies? I don’t know. Subconscious working things out as best they can? Perhaps. I’m not entirely sure but what I am entirely sure about is that I’m barely two weeks into 2014 and it is already a struggle. 
Very few people really know what’s going on with me and sometimes I think it’s for the best. I mean, how many times can I keep going on about my troubles? If it gets bring to me imagine how boring it must be for those who know me and have to hear it? That’s why I keep it quiet, for the most part. I've lied so much in the last year or so. Excuse after excuse and lie after lie to cover up what it is I’m going through. It’s just easier that way. Rather throw in a bad guts excuse than, I can’t think of a good reason to carry on a day to say existence anymore, explanation.
I don’t know what to do anymore.
Actually, I do. I'd rather be sleeping than living.

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