I need to vent

(Content notes for financial insecurity, pain, and depression I guess.)

The reason the post for the 15th was written on the 6th, the reason that the last two posts were prescheduled rather than written around when they went up is that I don't have reliable internet access outside of school and I really don't have the free time at school to use these computers.  Yet here I am.

I have two computers at home that can connect to the internet.  One is trying to prove that an abacus can in fact be faster than a computer by lowering the bar for computer speed.  Unfortunately no one has found a way to connect an abacus to the internet and I don't think I have one anyway.  The other has stretches where it's ok but they're just to build me up for the rest of the time when it's playing peekaboo with the idea the internet even exists and makes me think that all profanity combined is inadequate for the frustration I feel.

I use them to go on and check three things:
1 My school email address.
2 If there are new comments on this blog.
3 Paypal
Then I turn whichever one I used for that right back off and pray that it will start again when I try to turn it on next.

That last one might stand out as somewhat odd.  It is not because I hope that I'll get $1,385 by the end of the month and thus be able to make the first installment on a summer course in Italy.  Don't get me wrong, it would make me happy (something I dearly need) and I want that, but it's not going to happen.

It's because, as I've mentioned elsewhere, I've become very scared of May.  It would seem that if I had started taking over paying things directly in June instead of January finances would be much easier.  Obviously heating oil you don't need to fill up as often during non-winter months so you can build savings there, but the big thing appears to be May.  A once yearly, once in a semester, and once yearly expense all line up in May.  Spread out over 12 months it's no problem, but starting from where I did it's sort of, "Jesus Fuck!"  January, February, and March have not been months during which one could build savings to pay off May.  Plus school is sort of a wild card against me, it's not figured in along with the rest of my finances so the once in a semester expense would be a problem anyway.

I don't have documentation with me, so I can't check, but I think the irregular expenses (in addition to the normal monthly expenses) are around $3,000.  And I think I'm doomed.

And that's not even what I need to vent about.  That's just getting warmed up.

A concussion, according to official documentation from the hospital, takes anywhere from a few days to four weeks to recover from.  It was a week ago today.  My head still hurts.  My neck still hurts.  Parts of my back even hurt.

Yes, I've had it checked out (twice) but apparently these things just take time to recover from, and the time is variable.

It isn't steady.  It ebbs and flows.  It sneaks up on me getting a little worse and a little worse and I don't even notice it's happening until the pain is so bad that I want to do nothing but scream profanity.

And that's not what has me writing this either.  This is: I'm really fucking sad.

I want to know if you can quit at life, crawl into bed, pull your blanket over you and never get up again.

I want to cry, but as I said before, the tears never come.  Actually that's an understatement.  I want to sob.  I want to let all of the emotion come out in a torrent of tears that could cause flood advisories.

I want to know if "can't" can be used as an intransitive verb because, "I can't X," sort of implies that there exists something that I can do, and right now I just can't.

I want the pain to stop, I want the sadness to stop.  I have no hope.  So I don't think they will any time soon.

I want to give up.  To let all my muscles go slack and just stay wherever I fall.

I am despondent, dejected, depressed, disheartened, disconsolate, dispirited, forlorn, morose, melancholy, woebegone (which in spite of its looks is not a triple compound, what a letdown.)

I am there are not words.

It's like my depression medicine turned off (no withdrawal or downward spiral, just off) and decided that I'd experienced enough of the "I can't feel anything!" depression so it decided to hit me with an inordinate amount of sadness.  A lifetime's worth at least.

I note that this struck before the concussion/computer breaking fall.

I note that even with the financial worries above, which are real and serious and should bring a person down, there's no way I should be this low.

Short of being trapped in a torture-porn movie where I was forced to watch as everyone I cared about became the movie's victims I'm pretty sure there is NOTHING that should realistically be making me feel this low.  Yet here I am.