Eight-day of June and it is horrible.
Yesterday was dreadful. There was another fight and I completely collapsed, emotionally and mentally. And, in some ways, physically too from all the crying and screaming. I am quailing at the thought of another year under this roof and if I don't get a job after that, I might be stuck here. I won't be able to survive any more of this. Constant derision and disturbances have shaken me to the core. That is why zero prospects of work leads have driven me crazy and that is what I have been crying here about in my previous entries. I am unable to function like a normal or reasonable human being. I am unable to create thoughts. No imagination. It seems as if my subconsciousness has desensitized. I have lost the sense of taste for any kind of desire or want. I do not crave anything. Passion is sitting dead on a chair, strangulated by constant headaches and bitterness.
I cried like an infant animal, legs stuck somewhere in a dark ditch. Scratching my arms to pieces. Trying to get out of something. I often stare at the mirror when I cry. I stare at the helplessness in my eyes. The impotence of my body to fight for me. Slipping on my tears into this horrendous existential crisis, I get trapped by my dearth of everything. I have nothing yet I feel constrained to live further like a punishment for being born. I found myself begging. To whom? I don't know. Just, pure shameless begging to be extricated from the jaws of a pathetic life.
Today has been nothing but an extension of yesterday's agony. Consuming every single bone of my body. Making me sick of my humanness. Contriving me into feeling all the grim and grisly points of life. It is nauseating to even exist in this flesh. I just keep hoping some egress to break open. Then, I can leave this mortal coil behind to wind up on its own.
I am unable to swallow food, and I can only remember a few words of poetry.
"We lose June. We lose July. In
August we look in mirrors and
want to die."
- Kim Addonizio, from "The Women", Wild Nights: New and Selected Poems.
Today's mood: ...
- Oizys.
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