I am not happy with where I am, what I'm doing, or really who I am anymore. Still having the feeling I'm not doing what I should with my life. Personal life doesn't make me happy. Going to work doesn't make me happy. Thinking about my (potential) career doesn't make me happy. Doesn't make me sad either to be honest. It makes me feel nothing. My insomnia is back again. I felt the need to smoke again after four years - and I did so for a couple of weeks but now I'm gritting my teeth and try not to because I know just how slippery this slope is. I'm ashamed I gave in, I really am. I crave being ripped away from this reality, being it with alcohol or sleeping pills. I'm finding it harder to resist them day by day. I just can't take the stress of any of it anymore. I absolutely dread the upcoming Holidays. I'm at that point when I'm actually thinking more often about leaving the country and the life I have and start over wherever I end up.
I might tell you that I'm fine, but I'm really not. There might be moments when I actually believe this, but the months prior to this journal showed me that I have way more bad days and nights than good ones. Tomorrow when I'll be looking at this I might think "What the hell was I thinking when I posted this?!", but two days from now I'll be back to feeling the same as I am right now. And before you say anything, I know how major depression feels like. This is not it, but it might end up being be the build up for a massive one, which is what I've been fearing for almost two and a half years, ever since I've had to deal with the death of the first grandma (and then in chronological order: planning a wedding - the death of the second grandma - finishing University - taking the residency exam - starting work - breaking up with my fiance - whatever it is that's going on now).
All I can say right now is that this is a new kind of monster with which I've not dealt before. It's almost like I am dead inside and keep going on pure momentum but I'm not sure how long that's going to last (I say "almost" because I still have moments when I make innapropriate jokes). I mean, stuff happened recently that should've made me sad, or scared, but it did neither. To make you understand what I'm talking about I guess I'll have to tell you about it.
Firstly, last week, one of my uncles died unexpectedly. Really sad situation. But once again, the story with my last grandmother repeats itself - I had no strong feelings towards this. I knew it was sad and that I should be sad, I just didn't feel it. When my mother who obviously had cried just moments prior told me someone passed away my reaction was "Oh. Who was it?" - completely straight faced, completely unsurprised, completely empty. I remember how my stomach sunk when I found out about my first grandmother and there's just no comparison between that and the second grandma or the recent situation. And this makes me think of myself as a shit person. And when I say this I'm not feeling bad, or sad, or even guilty anymore - I'm feeling nothing.
Then, the second story: when my parents and I were on our way to the funeral, a speeding car coming from the other direction hit our car's mirror in what I can only guess it was an attempt to overtake/see if they can overtake the car in front of it. Said mirror bent and broke, got through the driver's window, completely smashing it in the process, and hit me in the face (I don't remember this last part). I was sitting next to my father, who was driving (funny thing is that day I was actually supposed to drive but had a tummy ache and quit at the last moment. I'm glad that was the case because if it were me behind the wheel I would've crashed the car, given that my initial reaction when I heard a noise which I can only compare to shooting a gun was to cover my face and close my eyes).
Broken glass came all over me and left two superficial scratches on the left side of my face and ear. Meanwhile the mirror left a deep mark on my glasses. I am thankful I was wearing them otherwise I have a feeling right now I would've looked like a pirate if I didn't (innapropriate joke #1 given the context). I kept thinking a rock broke our windshield (happened once before but I wasn't in the car when it happened) because of how much glass I felt on my face. My reaction after glass stopped raining down on me was to repeatedly, but calmly ask if everyone was ok and I only opened my eyes when they both said yes. It took some good seconds for them to reply because my father was shocked and too focused to keep driving straight and my mother was too scared to even move.
I don't remember the car, I don't remember the pain or if it was any (I guess it was though judging by the mark on my glasses), in my mind it's like BOOM, black (because I instantly closed my eyes), glass all over and then something just briefly brushing my face and that is that. Why did I got so into detail with this one? Because I guess I should've been scared for my life and for my parents. I wasn't. I only thought how the hell are we going to drive the ~70 km that we still had ahead of us like that through (almost) night, cold and occasional rain - even before I opened my eyes; nevermind the fact that if my father wasn't an experienced driver we could've all died right there. After this incident I finally found out how it feels like to drive a convertible through shit weather and I decided that even given the opportunity to have one, I'll just stick to classic cars (innapropriate joke #2 given the story that led to it).
And to top it off, lady cat hasn't doing so well this week either, she got really itchy for no reason - no parasites, no change in food or environment, no contact with other animals or the outdoors. I just hope from the bottom of my heart it's not an autoimmune issue since it's not the first time it happens. She was so itchy that she scratched herself until she got sores all over, especially on her neck and belly. She's doing better on antihistamines but I still don't know how to treat the cause because I don't know what it is and it's hurting me to see she's not well .
I did not write this journal to alarm you, I just wanted to put it out there to briefly let you know why I'm not so much around here as I used to be and in case there's anyone else going through a tough time - you are not alone. It's been a crap year for me and it seems it's only getting worse, but I'll be fine eventually (do not confuse with "I am fine"), only I don't know when. If I happen to upload more awkward literature in the near future, do not be scared for me - I've always been open and honest with you and I trust you trust me when I say fiction is fiction, even though it may be based on real events and/or emotions.
And to end this 3AM journal on a high note: last night I dreamed about how a tiny person like me could kill an above average sized guy with my bare hands - pretty simple actually, if that person happens to be laying on their back for various reasons: just put your hands together, make a combined fist and smash the guy's throat as hard as you can. Later, when I woke up, I realized this is a legit way of killing someone, although I have no idea why my mind came up with this shit in its spare time, provided that I didn't watch or had any dubious thoughts about this or any similar subjects (#QualitySleep). Someone who experienced this first or second hand, please tell me if I need an exorcist (innapropriate joke #3 because ??).