Now, I balk at going to the gym, because it's nearby the I-35 overpass. My mind is in this repeat cycle: "You should jump. You should just go out there and jump. Fuck the collateral damage!"
It's wondering if overdosing on my prescriptions would be toxic enough to kill me - that wasn't the case, back in '98....
All the justifications revolve around how little evidence there is, that I have any value in others' lives. I know the justifications aren't correct, because I'm still appreciated by my supervisor, and I'm invited to the weekly board game night.
My mind does not want to deal with living on a negative bank balance, for a week. It does not want to consider cancelling appointments, like with my therapist, because the money's just not there. It does not want to face starvation, because I end up lacking the time to make a meal, or not have the money to buy one.
It's spinning out, because of poverty, again. Then it gets slapped with the harsh reality that it does not know how to reach out. It does not believe there's any support network out there, for me.
That combination of isolation and poverty bring up all the suicidal specters... brings up those harsh self-judgements that I'm not appreciated, wanted, desired - "just some bore who can't get over hearing himself speak".
I don't know how to speak. I'm often the silent one in the group conversations. I don't go out of my way to impose myself into your lives, and start digging for juicy gossip bits. I would love to know all of you a bit better, but I don't want to force myself to do so.
So, I'm stuck with my suicidal thoughts, beating them back as best as I can. I have that paranoid fear to reveal that I'm having them, out of fear of getting locked up in ASH for a few weeks. Also, out of fear that everyone will trot out the simple answers to "check your meds" or "talk to your therapist" - all the while, while they're busy scrolling through Facebook, on their phones... instead of trying to connect outside of the internet. "Yes, I can see the irony that I'm writing that of Facebook...."
As I said in a post, an hour ago, I'm gravely afraid of making the calls, because I do not like the reactions that I'm already projecting on y'all. "People will scoff, at my peanuts of problems; and others will try to write me off as an attention-seeking clown." ...or.... they're just too busy to take the call, now, and they'll delay the return call, indefinitely.
Maybe, I'm typing all of this, because it's easier for me to process by typing instead of speaking - you know, there's that record of what's been said, whether it's shadows or harsh truths... Maybe, I should try Don E.'s "write with your non-dominant hand" to try to cut through superfluous phrasings...
At this point, I'm backing off from going to the gym, tonight. I'm going to try to focus on getting a better second job. Perhaps the venting has helped subdue the stinking thinking, for the moment.