10/29/25
Today I wanted to kill myself. But I did not. I've said it before, I have a clear plan of how and when. Gotta be strong, not today. Why am I here again after a short reprieve? My own ineptitude again and something as silly as hope. I made the mistake of having hope. I had the hope that I would be useful and back on my feet with a job, but I haven't heard anything back yet. I'm also at this fucking crossroads where I want to just fly solo and be alone or help out a friend. A friend I am very sure will just cause me more headaches in the long run. That fucking stupid lady is coming over Friday as well. It's all too fucking much because I am a weak piece of shit. I fail at everything. Something in me broke and the stupidity and laziness was coddled. So it tripled. Then my back and my fucking female organ problems that prevent me from being useful. All I have to look forward to is popping pills and cigarettes. If i had money I'd be hitting the booze again. Heck, if I had real money and luck I'd be high on meth. The main reason I've escaped back into my stupid inertia fantasy bs in my mind. To escape how much I hate myself. To hide from my failures. Today I wanted to die but I didn't.
10/15/25
Today is like many days where I feel the urge to kill myself. Having exhausted all my usefulness in the world, what is left for me? I often think of my retirement plan. It is almost unlivable here in Los Angeles. Social Security is exhausted; I don't have a penny to my name yet. Why have I not jumped into the most delicious embrace? You see, I was, up until recently, of use. I was a mother, well, I am. I have a beautiful and intelligent 15-year-old daughter. She was the lighthouse; she was my tears. There comes a time in all parents' lives when we are basically not needed anymore, and I have just made it out of that painful threshold. Why? The way she is, the way she snaps at me, very much like me, her bravery, her need to move in those circles, the way she looks at me, the way she doesn't look at me, the way she keeps things to her chest, not letting or sharing those very beautiful things in life that make a healthy mother-daughter relationship. She'll probably have a beau by now, which is the reason why she hides, and that's her right. But the mark of it all is not sharing. We had that relationship where we shared, and now we don't. Of course, this is my fault. To her now I am a machine, not a friend or even human. I am a broken-down, old, and ugly machine. I clean, feed, and pick up after you and nothing else. No confidence, no tenderness. It was about time, too, because one day we have to realize they are no longer ours but belong to themselves and the world. Bittersweet? This is a good and positive thing. When you love something, you let it go.So why have I not? What am I writing? I have decided that instead of doing it, I will just write my note. Write the note I was meant to use, collect it each time I wanted to, and explain why. One day I will do it; one day I will. But for now I will record every lightning flash. I still want some good times before I go. I still want to do things on my own, to even just be on my own. I still want things before the big nothing. Until then, I will record this in earnest. Maybe I can have a few chuckles lol.