8pm sunday night
I just don't have much energy. I get up and close the curtains or feed the dog or take him out, but the rest of the time mostly I just lay around feeling bad about my choices and coping with random hunger and thirst impulses. The thirsty part is getting quite annoying really and I'm feeling really nauseous.
I quit pooping by Saturday but now I'm getting gas, that's odd. Oh man I feel nauseous, icky.
8pm and Dan's still at work. See, if he'd only work normal hours he'd be at least slightly plugged in but then he'd just turn his back to me and stare at that fucking computer all night anyway.
i've quit crying, too tired to work up any real emotion. That's a blessing. It's nice to be calm again. I'm feeling scared a bit but I've been scared for so long it's normal. Anxiety is a bitch. Stress causes it and my husband is such a continous supply of stress that I can't escape!
Oh and my sneezing and coughing are at an all time low. That's really nice. I don't know if it's because I quit my asthma meds, my immune system is too depressed to turn on, or just that not having any hash to smoke for the last week has given my lungs a break. Still smoking oil a little but mostly just the nicotine vape which is helping to keep my mouth hydrated a bit. It's getting powerful dry. I hope my tongue doesn't dry enough to split and bleed. I wish I could imagine what Dan could do to stop me. Flowers and chocolates and champagne would probably make me barf now anyway. I haven't eaten anything since thursday night and it's now 24 hours since I drank any water, so even if I stop this thing I'll need to build back up to food slowly with coconut water. Two days more and only medical intervention will save me and possibly with organ damage. That scares me. What if they revive me and send me home with organ damage that requires constant care, but nobody to care for me? Add to my burdens! Plus I'd be hassled by shrinks to take their insane drugs and dig out my explanations of this, that and the other thing. All while he uses this against me in his little fights. The tension. I cant' stand the tension anymore. I just can't. I once told him if I wanted I'd walk out naked and leave but I haven't done that. I've thought about it. What direction to walk? How far would I get? Then what? May as well die in the comfort of my home watching netflix, right?
It's not like I have anywhere else. Not even family to run to. Nobody. I've never had anyone. I thought Dan was going to be that someone but he's killing me. He's my doom!
I thought I could teach him how to find happiness but I only achieved despair.
Anything I found that cheered him up was thereafter studiously avoided. Any attempt to bring happiness into his life was opposed vehemently. Why does he hate happiness? No singing, no joy, no silliness, no play. All his jokes are mean ones at the expense of someone else. Racist, feminist, political, classist, all manner of ways in which someone is lesser than he, and never actually funny unless you're just as ignorant.
He always tells me them when the timing is such that it will properly ruin my mood. He is just hateful.
I wonder if anyone will ever read this? I wish someone cared.
There ya go, hunger and thirst banished, tears flowing, back on track. Plenty of reason for my "irrational suicide."
I quit pooping by Saturday but now I'm getting gas, that's odd. Oh man I feel nauseous, icky.
8pm and Dan's still at work. See, if he'd only work normal hours he'd be at least slightly plugged in but then he'd just turn his back to me and stare at that fucking computer all night anyway.
i've quit crying, too tired to work up any real emotion. That's a blessing. It's nice to be calm again. I'm feeling scared a bit but I've been scared for so long it's normal. Anxiety is a bitch. Stress causes it and my husband is such a continous supply of stress that I can't escape!
Oh and my sneezing and coughing are at an all time low. That's really nice. I don't know if it's because I quit my asthma meds, my immune system is too depressed to turn on, or just that not having any hash to smoke for the last week has given my lungs a break. Still smoking oil a little but mostly just the nicotine vape which is helping to keep my mouth hydrated a bit. It's getting powerful dry. I hope my tongue doesn't dry enough to split and bleed. I wish I could imagine what Dan could do to stop me. Flowers and chocolates and champagne would probably make me barf now anyway. I haven't eaten anything since thursday night and it's now 24 hours since I drank any water, so even if I stop this thing I'll need to build back up to food slowly with coconut water. Two days more and only medical intervention will save me and possibly with organ damage. That scares me. What if they revive me and send me home with organ damage that requires constant care, but nobody to care for me? Add to my burdens! Plus I'd be hassled by shrinks to take their insane drugs and dig out my explanations of this, that and the other thing. All while he uses this against me in his little fights. The tension. I cant' stand the tension anymore. I just can't. I once told him if I wanted I'd walk out naked and leave but I haven't done that. I've thought about it. What direction to walk? How far would I get? Then what? May as well die in the comfort of my home watching netflix, right?
It's not like I have anywhere else. Not even family to run to. Nobody. I've never had anyone. I thought Dan was going to be that someone but he's killing me. He's my doom!
I thought I could teach him how to find happiness but I only achieved despair.
Anything I found that cheered him up was thereafter studiously avoided. Any attempt to bring happiness into his life was opposed vehemently. Why does he hate happiness? No singing, no joy, no silliness, no play. All his jokes are mean ones at the expense of someone else. Racist, feminist, political, classist, all manner of ways in which someone is lesser than he, and never actually funny unless you're just as ignorant.
He always tells me them when the timing is such that it will properly ruin my mood. He is just hateful.
I wonder if anyone will ever read this? I wish someone cared.
There ya go, hunger and thirst banished, tears flowing, back on track. Plenty of reason for my "irrational suicide."