Sigh… Things are getting tiresome again. Then again, I am doing things for practical, rational reasons rather than for what I’d rather. You must do that in life. My mom is worried though. Why? Well, I’ve been pulling my hair out. For a while I’ve been wondering about life and death and what the whole point of living is… blah… blah… What does life matter? Do I care if I die? Not really… blah… blah.
Then today I considered whether to tell her about wanting to cut again. Normally I wouldn’t. Why? Because I think not a damn thing will come from such thoughts, and if something does, I likely won’t care. I told her though. Why? – because of obligation. She would want to know. That, and I figure it would take some explaining if I do end up losing control and do something. Might as well give her the precaution she’d rather have. Peh.
She wonders if I should cut down on my volunteering or eventually just stop. I tell her that it is not necessary. She is torn because, well, my things acted up again not long after I started. I tell her, do I like the job? I don’t think so, but I don’t HATE it. Thus, I don’t mind doing it. It is like school to me again, just not all of the stress: Struggle to get up, go, do work, leave, struggle to stay awake for the rest of the day and then go to sleep if able to. For some reason they (my mom and the therapist) hope that I’ll find something that gives me a feeling of accomplishment, enjoyment or something. I more or less look at them blankly.
Again, I don’t really care. I’m not the sort who aspires for things. I doubt I ever have been. I don’t have goals. I’m sorry that troubles them, but I’m just dandy with that. I guess they are worried that I have no strive for life. I guess I don’t, but just because I don’t, it does not mean I lack the will to live. I merely lack in seeing the point… hum… maybe I just now proved something in regards to what they are worried about.
Then again, I am merely thinking that is what they believe merely due to observation. I could be wrong.
I will say this, from observations on what I have noticed in my “mood” is that I am now wishing to just hide out in my room more. I don’t want to leave my room to watch television shows with my mother anymore, but go merely because I’d hate to stop watching them. Does that sound contradictory? Yes. I like the shows, but I simply do not wish to “waste” time on them. What sort of time am I letting it waste then? Things most people would consider wasting time.
What is that then? It is reading, writing, researching, listening to music, getting things that I wish to get done and yet no longer have the time to. Basically, it is what I consider alone time. I’m a loner. I need little interaction. I’d like it better if I did not have to deal with the people at my “job”.
I could be just fine scanning in the books and putting them up alone. I could do that nonstop. It preoccupies my head and that is all I need in terms of functioning at a job. The problem is, I need some people skills or something. I need experience. Do I give a damn? Not particularly, but obviously some since I have considered it intellectually.
As mentioned, my mom questions if I should cut down on my days. I argue. Why? I would not mind, but “moral” wise, I am against it. I obviously do a great deal in there. To suddenly cut down would be unfair to the lady I help. It would be like a worker suddenly telling the employer he or she is quitting without a notice before hand – or at least, that is my take. That goes along with the whole dropping the job if it just does not work. I started. I will continue unless something drastic happens that knocks me upside the head. I am a person of obligation.
Shouldn’t the sudden apathy about life, the hair pulling, frustration, annoyance and consideration of cutting be drastic signs? For me it is not. For my mom it is yes. I am pretty indifferent about most things. The hair pulling feels good. The frustration and annoyance is a bother, but it is tolerating… everyone feels that stuff. The cutting is just considered for now. It is not like I intend to kill myself. I just want to break the skin.
Ah… and the whole cutting thing… it occurred while at “work”. I had an impulse. I was rational enough not to. One, I did not have scissors or a knife of my own. Two, I would not use the scissors on the desk – I think that would be disrespectful. Three, it is an elementary school – can’t do that with little kids around. I had considered about doing it at home, but was a bit against it because my mom would notice eventually. The other reason was that I was too bloody tired to really think of such when I was home.
Sigh. Well, that is the update pretty much. The point of writing this… is just to get out something. I mean, what do they want from me? Jeez… I’m fine, or I was fine. Either way, I am not going all suicidal on them and I am trying to work my way into being able to live like one of the “normal” people. I am trying to go out into the world and all of that shit. They are worried for me. Well I am trying, damn it! Now they are worried for me in a different way. Jeez… I’m sorry that both sides of the coin are not dandy for you, but I am just this way.
Huh…
Ah… right. This is why I am writing this. I am getting frustrated about doing things for them and just fucking it up or something. Yeah, rationally I am making it a bigger deal and perhaps my mind is presenting it in a twisted form. Well, I cannot change that. It is just… damn annoying.
I try, but… damn it… No matter what I do… Jeez…
I’m getting off. I’m venting now. Hah…