Yesterday started off so well, but ended up being one of my worst days in many weeks. The contemplation of suicide returned. I missed CoDA. I missed video games with Matt. I was so angry and lonely. The thought of being around people was unacceptable, because I would only come across as angry. People stay away from me when I feel that way.

I wanted to nap so desperately because I felt so tired, but sleep evaded me. Finally at 7PM I laid down and pleaded with my body to sleep. I slept for an hour and woke at 8:40PM which was perfect timing to jump on video games with my friends. I chose to go back to sleep.

This morning I wake up to a text and a voicemail of Matt asking where I was. I said I would be there. I no showed. I consciously made the decision to do so.

My life is unmanagable. I’m an addict of the highest order. I’m a net junkie and the only future I see is one where I kill myself.

I became angry yesterday when I receive my eBay seller invoice of around $240. I saw it, became angry, and immediately snuffed the feeling by jumping on eBay and listing more items.

24% of my sales goes to eBay seller fees. $200 is half a month’s rent. I worked so hard for that money and it gets taken away from me. eBay didn’t do the work. eBay didn’t do the countless Post Office runs. eBay didn’t go dumpster diving for cardboard boxes. eBay didn’t spend an hour resizing a box for a better fit. eBay didn’t damage their ears from repeated loud shipping tape tearing noise.

eBay just provided the platform. They’re entitled to it. I’m just salty. So salty, and I want to give up.

My parents came home last night. The house was finally unlocked and I didn’t go say hi because I was so angry. I didn’t go do my laundry because I was afraid of running into them.

I went outside and chopped treestumps with a throwing axe as hard as I could. I sat with my back to the log benches at the firepit and looked at the sky. The fucking sky was overcast and no stars were visible. I just sat there and thought about shit.

So angry. so tired. so dull.

I can’t tell if I’m eating too much, or eating too little. I’m not hungry, and I have all this energy which ends up turning to anger. I think I ate too much yesterday. I think I was in pain from doing pushups, and sitting for many hours with bad posture.

This is the second week I missed playing video games with Matt. I’m such an asshole. I said I would be there. My word is no good.

If I get coronavirus, I’m not going to fight it. I’m going to die a horrible death and I’ll be done living. I need to be done suffering.

I get started with these support groups and I don’t show up. SBT, CoDA, video games with friends. I missed all three. They aren’t what I need. I need a program that takes 100% of my focus. I can’t be worrying about money and recover from codependency and depression. I’m half in half out and there’s too much room for me to slip back into my old ways.

I can’t be alone for more than a day, and maintain my mental health. I can’t live here. this place promotes solitude.

I can’t do it alone. My life is unmanageable.

I can’t drive anymore. I have to sell my suburban and buy a bicycle. It’s not healthy for me to drive anyway.

I just want to go away. College, Job, Buddhist monk, whatever. Anything but here.

I’m living hell on earth, a leisure life with no meaningful social interaction and no reason to keep going.

*sigh* I woke up feeling so good, but I decided to feel down because I stood up Matt.

My life is unmanageable. I mean to show up to my support groups but I don’t because I feel so terrible. My life is unmanageable. My life is unmanageable. My life is unmanageable.

Wow, this is a critical low. I’m actually thinking about killing myself. I’m actually thinking about missing group today and making things worse on purpose.

This depression is snowballing. I’m so empty and so alone. Everything is pointless. I can’t make rent this month. I’m not grateful for things. I want to die. Meteor, please! Nuke, please!

Last social contact I had was board game day on Saturday. It’s Wednesday now.

Sunday I was fine. Good, even.

Monday I was deteriorating. Sad.

Tuesday I was imploding. Angry. Depressed.

Wednesday I’m done. Ready to die.