I need to get moving soon, if I am going to drag my ass into the shower, and then to outpatient – I have been so paralyzed, the past few days.  I feel like a lousy friend and a lousy person.  I haven’t been there for people the way I want to be, and I haven’t gotten anything done.  I just can’t get on top of things, and I cannot stand myself.

I do stupid things – like I sit here, trying to talk to a friend on GT who is clearly busy, and instead of just saying, "okay, you’re obviously busy, I am going to do something else," I sit there like an idiot, waiting for the intermittent responses, every ten minutes or so.  I can’t blame anyone but myself for that kind of stupidity. 

My efforts to hash out my un-processed feelings about the death of my daughter (back in 2000 – the first anniversary of her death I drank, fell apart, and got dumped by the guy I was dating at the time, because was all too much – after he had all but begged me to lean on him) have met with limited success.  I get some things out, and then I wind up feeling incredibly hurt, stupid, needy, clingy, and/or self-destructive.  I don’t know why I thought I could hash this out.  I don’t know why I thought I could be helped – that I could even get through this month any way than how I’ve managed for years:  I bury the pain under the hardest drug I can find, and I try not to be irritating to others.

"But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain’t the time for your tears."

I haven’t been able to wrap myself up in the same happiness or comfort that I was able to find, before.  Which makes enough sense.  I wear on people.  I just wish it would all stop.  This has all been so hard.  I am tired of feeling sorry for myself.  I am tired of feeling so damn dependent on other people, such that it feels like the end of the world when someone doesn’t come through for me.  I don’t blame them – I blame me for letting myself get so DAMN NEEDY.  I knew better than to let myself relive this shit.  When those feelings started to creep up, I should have buried them with a shovel, then, buried the shovel.  I KNEW BETTER.  So miserable, right now…  I hate myself so throughly at the moment.  Writing this sh*t feels so pointless.

All my promises feel so pointless.  I don’t know why I bother making them.  I don’t know how I think I am going to keep from breaking them.  At least one of them…

"In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all’s equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain’t pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught ’em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,"

I know isn’t fair.  I know life isn’t. 

Life wasn’t fair yesterday (we’ve all read our history books – we know this), it’s not fair today, and it probably won’t be fair tomorrow.  (It’s a pretty safe bet).   I just want to give up.  I am sick of my pain, sick of myself, and more than anything…  I am sick of getting my hopes up.  I sick of thinking something might be getting better, or that I have found a way to make it better, only to have those feelings dashed, like a glass bottle on asphault.  My uncle was murdered by a cop when I was a little girl, and nothing happened to the guy.  I learned at a young age that the world is a brutal, unfair place.  I’ve just been too beaten down by it to keep putting my fists up to fight.

I guess, I’m saying…  I give up.

"Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin’ that way without warnin’.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
Now is the time for your tears."  (Bob Dylan, "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll")