Another daylog because I feel emotional tonight and I need somewhere to get it out.
"gratitude"
Thanksgiving happened, and I had an okay day with my parents and sister. We didn't really do anything. I helped my mother with the food for a few hours, we ate, I helped her clean up, we played a card game (hearts, a game I learned tonight and will probably forget because I don't ever want to play it again).
Now I'm sitting at my desk after everyone's gone to sleep and I feel like I'm boiling in neurotic feelings, fighting the urge to make myself vomit. There are too many reasons. Just... I don't know. Holidays feel so empty to me these days. And today, today specifically, we're supposed to find things to be thankful for and, if I'm really honest, I feel really no gratitude at all for anything.
And like I know I do have things I *should* be thankful for. I know, I was born middle-class in America and not somewhere impoverished. I have a family that cares for me and keeps me alive while we try to get my meds sorted out. I have all the necessities in abundance; lots of yummy food, lots of clothes, a ton of video games and books and a nice computer and so forth. But really whenever I think about my life I can't help but think of everything bad, and how I can't sleep at night, and how I can't hold a job, and how I'm barely passing my classes, and it just makes me feel... anger, I guess. Lividity. But I'm not angry at anyone or anything, I'm just angry. I just feel like I'm boiling with anger at life and... ugh. Ugh.
I was thinking tonight on a conversation I was having with fliphone I think yesterday or the day before; I mentioned to him that I was afraid that I would burn in purgatory if I was wrong about what feelings I chose to let myself feel. I do wonder that sometimes, if the fact that I'm even angry at life is some sort of sin against God, maybe I'm supposed to just "love my fate" but I honestly think I'm right on the boundary of sheer hatred. Just pure hatred for living, sick of breathing and thinking and everything and everyone and people and life and the same thing over and over and over and I'm ready for it to end.
I went a few nights without my lamotrigine the other day. The depression really cleared my head. Happiness is extremely fragile, and no matter what I do it just doesn't last. I'll be happy for a few minutes, or half an hour, or an hour, and then I'm back to the neurotic slurry of anger and depression and nausea.
The only thing that illuminates my room is a small lamp because my ceiling light broke. I swear I'm becoming a vampire.
Thinking back to how I promised the woman at the hospital I wouldn't kill myself for a year. February is getting closer. I don't know if I should be scared or relieved, but when I think about it I feel like I can't breathe.
Total change of topic, my parents religious beliefs are really getting on my nerves. They're going deep down the pentacostal christian rabbit hole and I don't think I can pull them out. Everything is demonic to them. They're obsessed with the idea of "spiritual warfare" (mainly obsessed with demons) and that it's connected to everything. I have a friend who has schizo-effective disorder and sometimes hallucinates. My mother had heard about it, and asked me about it, so I was explaining what schizo-effective disorder is like, and she responded "what if it's real? What if people with that disorder are just prophets?". Like, okay mother, I don't think God would give someone a gift that puts him on disability and makes him terrified out of his mind by seeing horrific demons beyond comprehension. God is a god of """love and mercy""" right? Where's the mercy in that?
less depressing shit
In other news, I got my hands on a pc with two floppy drives (3.5 inch AND 8 inch) and a CD drive. It was FREE too!!! MS-DOS floppies are on the way, wordstar floppies to come. On my honor, I will have a darned wordstar 4.0 pc up and running. I want to write an entire novella and be able to hold it on a floppy disk. I know it seems absurd, but I want authenticity. I was telling my father about this and he seemed to think it was the silliest thing ever. "Why would you want to go back to that? That old stuff is worthless."
Yeah, yeah, just you wait. When I'm writing thousands of words per day on that inferior hunk of junk, I will be able to PROVE that less is more. Less is more!!! LESS IS MORE!! """RETROFUTURISM"""!!! FUCK!!! YEAH!!!
Once I get it up and running, it will transform me like the Ring of Power transformed Gollum. I'll start writing 250,000-word fantasy epics. I won't even be in control of my own body, it will be the computer writing it through me. I'll grow a neckbeard. I'll start wearing suspenders. I'll gain weight. I'll age 50 years in a few weeks. I will become a replica of George R. R. Martin
(the joke here is that George R. R. Martin says that to this day he writes his books on Wordstar 4.0, which is why I want so badly to get a machine running it. AUTHENTICITY!! I got it running on my real computer, but come on, that's not the same. It's about the charm, the experience, the real-deal.)