My personal life is so disorganized. I live by the moment. I have no budget, but this is because I spend money wisely and most of it gets saved. So unemployment just collects in my savings for...whatever. My Saab. My little dog. Frivolities on occasion to while the time away as I wait for the clock to wind down and watch life just pass me by. I have no schedules, no routines, no social life beyond the internet whatsoever unless one of my so-called "friends" irl needs legal work done dirty (because I'm not licensed to practice law; I just have an extremely intimate knowledge of it having sat in prison for 13 years and having spent a great deal of time in the law libraries therein). The only reason I go along with it half the time is because I'll go sit anonymously in the peanut gallery in court and watch the fireworks unfold from my form of scorched-earth legal tactics and language for the cheap thrills and temporary relief from the constant ennui it provides. I float through life because there is literally nothing to hold me down, and I hate it. I don't have a doctor, physical, psychiatric, or psychological, and my medical records are in the wind. I have no will, no life insurance, no health insurance beyond some B.S. I'm somehow still paying $16 a month for that's a holdover from Obamacare and covers exactly nothing. I have no career, no formal training (yet can speak fluent Spanish), no degrees, technical diplomas, no commendations, volunteering awards, no contacts to network with, no people beyond those I've known in the joint whom are out and call on me for favors. The only thing I have is a book I self-published on Amazon for the sake of my own vanity that no one is buying. lmao My car has more personality than I do, and will probably turn into Christine when I die.

I feel so much of a deeper understanding of what King Solomon had meant by, "There is nothing new under the sun." I have lived for self so long that I have burned through all possible human reasons for perpetuating existence and ran out of reasons to keep going, and instead have come to reject myself as something no longer worthy of consideration anymore. Haha, pretty sure there's some form of disassociation there as I really feel kind of trapped with having to deal with a life that I don't feel is mine, if that makes sense. Like, there is a part of me that was the instigator of a lot of shameful acts in the past in the pursuit of selfish hedonism, and I no longer wish to be tied to that person anymore, and that side of me is starting to coalesce into something more...apart. It feels less like me in that part of myself, which I fear will eventually cause a schism in my psyche, if it hasn't already. This is why I am so...meh...about caring for myself, I think. Why bother? Why preserve that which I loathe? Kill it one way or another.

Some forms of suicide take longer than others, I guess. I can feel that semi-comatose quietude calling again, sometimes. I fell into such a deep depression in prison once that for six and a half weeks, I blanked and lost 22 pounds. It's a complete blur. I sat on my bunk, stared at the wall, and didn't speak or move. Count times, I'd go stand. Meals, when I'd go, I'd just throw away or half the time leave it at the table and just stand up and leave. I don't even remember thinking that much, just being in a lot of pain. I didn't care about anything anymore at that point, and it wasn't until some people actually started forcing me to eat that I broke it, but I can still remember the first week or two afterwards wanting to go back into that twilight state. I don't know how else to describe it. But I can feel that same feeling again of wanting to just stop.

I'm pretty sure it's because I can find no reason for being, and the answer of, "for myself" no longer satisfies. It's not enough. And that cognizance of lack is always there, drying up hunger and thirst because I am constantly in seek mode for something that doesn't exist. That is the truth I cannot accept, and makes me want to push away from myself in revulsion. Even now, my stomach roils at discussing this. I do not trust therapists, and I hang out on these forums by the grace of John and the other admins because I have no other MH support, so MH therapy is not an option, either.

I'm not even sure I want to convince myself to eat, but know that I have to on a logical level despite my emotional resistance to doing so.