Thursday, March 29, 2012

Family Meeting

[Trigger warnings for the usual: stress, depression, anxiety and whatnot. Also for hypothetical self harm.]

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I want to scream. I want to shout. I want to swear and rant and rave.

I want to cry.

I want to break something, hurt someone, thrash things, throw things, knock them over. I want to destroy something.

I want to curl up in a ball and have the world go away.

I more than anything I want to be alone. I want this all to end. I want to beg for it to stop.

I think about how much less painful it would be to be suffering a beating. I've been beaten before. Years ago, as a child, by other school children. Nothing serious, it would have been in elementary or middle school (or both), children that age are not known for their tendency to give severe beatings. I'm not saying that they can't, I'm sure they have. But not to me. My story is rather mild in many ways, the world abounds in worse.

I've never been beaten with a stick. I imagine that would also be more comfortable than this.

I imagine banging my head against a wall. Seems like it would be a step up.

I've never been suicidal. Don't understand the mindset, doubt I ever will. I wonder if things like this drive people to suicide. An outside observer would assume not, all that's happening is talking, not even overtly hostile talking, but the pain is there, and if someone didn't want to deal with the pain, and something like this happened to them a lot... I don't know. I've never understood the mindset. My wondering goes nowhere.

I think the words, "Fucking God," again and again. Sometimes it becomes more than a thought, the mumble on the edge that divides thought from speech, I hope no one hears me.

I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to shout, I want to beg. I stay silent.

The entire time a dog is barking outside. The dogs were put out because when they were in the house they insisted on playing, it was an impossible distraction. Early on I bring the barking dog in. Immediately the other starts barking. We don't have a place to put her, we're in the room she would be put in and she doesn't do well when people are in the room. She barks the entire time, every bark hits me like a blow, I wonder if the neighbors will hear.

Years before, the police came by to say we had to stop our dog from barking when our dog hadn't been barking. I almost wish they would come by now, when we're actually guilty. At least it would be a break.

The barking occasionally pauses when the dog gets up on her hind legs and pounds on the door. At another time I'd make her stop that, and the barking, as quickly as possible. Now I don't have the opportunity, I have no choice but to listen. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to close my eyes and have the world disappear. I want it all to end. I want to be left alone.

This should be my second to last day skiing, but the snow went away, it was cancelled. Not replaced with anything. I've run out of positive in my life. All hope died long ago.

I want to scream, I want to cry.

It goes on. And on. And on.

Please for the love of fucking God can this all just end?

I don't actually think God is fucking.

Not that God's sex life is any of my business.

I consider that there's a reason my family broke up.

Every word lands like an impact, perhaps not exactly a punch, but something that hurts. Not a great pain, any given one would be easy to shrug off, but they all add up. They come constantly and show no signs of stopping. Almost all of it stuff that didn't need to be said, or maybe it did need to be said but now it has been said several times already so why the fuck can't this all just stop? I know from experience that trying to get an answer to that question just results in things getting worse.

I want to scream. I want to swear. I want to rant. I want to rave. I want to cry. I want to curl up in a ball and cease all contact with the outside world. I want this all to stop. I want it to end.

I didn't ask for this. I want it to go away. I don't care if it's necessary, just please let it stop.

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Also, it all started when I was four words into the fourth sentence of a fiction fragment that I was really liking thinking about and couldn't wait to get down. That should be the next post, but there's no way it will turn out as it should have with this in the middle.

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