The Precarious World
A few days ago he said “It’s the least I could do, literally” when it came to the 4th or 5th discussion of the cessation of his constant insults and jabbing. The least he could do to not add on to the dogpile; and yet today, like clockwork, he did it again. I’m not particularly sensitive to being insulted or to any specific word, it’s just that I have asked over and over and over about this one thing in particular. About the lashing out and undue punishment. In all his apologies he mentions how much he loves and cares for me, how I’m literally the one person he’s closest to in the world right now, and yet he can’t do the supposed least to stop hurting me. To rub salt in the wound, it was as I was serving him a bowl of the soup he requested I cook for him in bed.
I! Me! Sinclair who is so distant, so aloof, so cold, so high and mighty! offering all my acts of service with the utmost care and passion I can muster. Only to be berated, insulted, and manipulated. Personal chef, pornstar,therapist,maid. How have I ended up here again? Do I simply court and attract abuse in return for my undying servitude? Is that what I am? Is that all I deserve? Is that all I amount to?
Over the last few years, I’ve noticed that I come home after work and walk around limping, hobbling, and unable to stand up straight. Exactly the way my mother would after all her shifts in the hospitals and nursing facilities. Then I stand in the kitchen and cook, or clean. Here laying in bed, in complete silence and complete darkness, I feel empathy for my mother. I wish I could be in her life without having to sacrifice my own.
I haven’t been able to cry in what’s a relatively long time for me.
“huuuge crybaby over here!”
It’s true usually, but not lately. It’s hard for me to articulate the resistance that always counters and suffocates the urge to cry. I sometimes feel it come up, and then it’s washed away by the overwhelming sense that it’s stupid, useless, pathetic. It’s also not at all worth the subsequent sinus blockage and headache, so I just don’t do it.
There’s a phrase in my native tongue that translates to “crying into yourself” sort of an internal weeping. I don’t do too much rambling these days. After this I will curl up into a ball on my mattress, and resign myself to pain.
I walk into the apartment after my shift. Immediately my roommate’s cat starts screaming at me for food as if I ever feed it. It tries opening the bathroom door as I sit to pee, and when I come it, it immediately runs into the direction of its food bowl. It tries screaming, meowing gently, and flopping over on the floor in what I can only assume is an attempt to look cute? I’ve seen this move work on its owner several times. I ignore it and head back to my room thinking about how the cat might think I’m stupid for not understanding what’s it’s trying to tell me. “I want food! give me food!”
I understand, I just don’t care.
This thought was immediately, reflexively followed by “I wonder if that’s the case with God too.”
I was raised so deeply and fearfully religious that to this day, I’m still so desperate to understand or explain away some reasoning for why the God everything in mine and my family’s lives revolved around seems to be entirely absent.
Our entire reason for being, for doing anything for thinking or having anything at all. Entirely absent. A precarious world in a silent universe.
In a way, to be forsaken is all I’ve ever known.
Once while taking shrooms with Raven, I asked how she was doing after some time and she responded with “I kinda wish it would end.” My heart dropped, I felt such deep, unfathomable sorrow. She meant the trip, I thought she meant her life. It was devastating I never wanted to hear words like those from anyone I loved. Here I am now a few years later and dear god how I wish it would all just end already. I’m so fucking sick of my shitty, painful, grief laden life! I WANT IT TO END! PLEASE GOD MAKE IT STOP!!!GRIEF AND LOSS AND FAILURE AND PAIN AND PAIN AND PAIN AND PAIN AND PAIN AND PAIN. THATS BASICALLY MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE!
PLEASE!!!!!!
please.
there’s a voice in my head saying “blow your fucking brains out” “i want to blow my fucking brains out” I get confused sometimes and think I’m the one having those thoughts. I take a deep breath. It’s screaming now. Someone in my head says “I will achieve buddha-hood!”. As for me, I’m just really tired.
