Tired of the Suffering

I guess the realization or the hard core depression set in yesterday.  I haven't wanted to finish my orders and got an unhappy review from a customer.  I deserved it.  I am not sure why I do not deserve more bad reviews, bad everything.

For several days, I have noticed the voice, or maybe it is not really a voice but a sudden knowing but it does not seem like it comes from myself, but something other than myself.  I am aware it is in my head, my mind, and I do not mean that to be as if I am making it up, but rather that I am not making it up.  That is where the awareness of the intrusion, yet it does not seem like an intrusion, is.

It is a foreign, although comforting and not unwanted knowing that I can end it whenever I want.  It calms me and makes me feel better at that moment.  Usually it is just to get through that day until the next.

Yesterday it was more vivid, it was a color, a very calming, soothing color.  It was not a "vision", that is just how it showed up in my mind.  I am not sure if "it" had a voice or if it was a "knowing".  My life is all about colors, constantly, it is what I notice and how I think.  My moods are colors, I describe things in colors.

How to describe the color?  It was not pure white.  It would be close to the color if someone had repurposed a small piece of furniture - say an end table, with a rustic white color, to make the piece look homey I guess - comforting.  But that rustic white didn't stop.  Beyond that was clear blue, blue sky - I would imagine maybe what the heaven skies would be like, I guess?  For some reason I am thinking of white wings but I do not know if I am adding to what I saw.

And it was just a very calming I can end this.  Anytime.  I can take my life.  Was it actually saying I can kill myself?  Maybe.

I cannot point to one thing, just a big grab bag of everything.  The fight in the counselor's office with Mark.  I am so tired and fed up with the whole thing.

He WINS! I want to scream at him.  I want to put a pretend crown on his head and tell him YOU are the biggest victim, you have the most pain, you have had the worst life of anyone ever.  You win, you lose, whatever the challenge, here is your crown.

I can't take it and it will never change.  Apparently talking to him ever is wrong.  Good, bad, about MY day, HIS day, anything.  Uttering a word - bad.  This week, I am not to talk to him when he comes home - I guess aside from hello, no clue.  The therapist wanted to call me each night and talk to her about whatever I needed to talk about.  What the fuck?  Let him spend time alone.  He does not want to be touched nor does he ever just hold my hand or touch me unless he wants sex.  On the rare occasion he has touched me and I said I do not want sex when sitting on the couch he has gotten hurt, but then yeah, he had wanted sex.  But still...oh my God, how dare I say that.

He sits in his office and plays video games.  All days.  But that is supposed to be a good thing.  Because he is an introvert.  Because that is how he recharges.  And me?  Well it is my "job" in the relationship to the the social director.  What the fuck ever.  I will stay in this house and rot.  Good luck to anyone who feels the way I do making plans to do something when I do not even want to, getting his half hearted ass to come with me when I know he does not want to, then trying to drive a happy conversation during the outing.  FUCK THAT.  I am so over that.  And I am so over him faking it.  He is what he is and I am what I am.

He claims he has border line high functioning Asperger's Syndrome and damn if he does not have just about every single symptom.  Wouldn't it be nice to go to a support group?  But oh my God no he says, and oh my God no says the therapist.  FUCK THEM BOTH.  I am trash - litter in the gutter.  The byproduct of something that has been chewed up and spit out.  That is how I feel, and that is what I feel my worth is.

He does not want to change and neither do I.  Actually, right now, I am just not capable.

So many emotions and it feels I cannot let them out.  I am not allowed to have them, and how dare I have them.

If I lived alone, at least I would have a reason for feeling lonely.  At least I would have a reason for having no one who understood or at least attempt to talk to.  It seems worse when there is someone here and I feel all of those things but yet I can not say anything.

Like I have to push it all down, like it is wrong for feeling anything.

I do not think I can deal with it.  I do not think I want to.  I do not care that can not deal with or nor do not want to.

I want the color to come back.  Right now, I long for it.  Yes, I can sit here and think the same thought that comes with it, but somehow it isn't quite the same.  Not exactly, not as calming.  That is really crazy, right?

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