Dead Girl

 I think every day I know less what I should be doing than any day that preceded it.

I'm 33 now. I feel like I had a better sense of purpose when I was 16. There was probably a good period between 20 and 25 where things could have found a track. There was an obvious and clear path somewhere, I'm sure. I would have found someone to marry. Or something I liked to do. Or had a baby. Maybe all three things. At the very least I could have found a job that I liked and could settle in to while writing on the side. I could have thrown everything away and moved to a coastal city to chase some dream. I could have believed in having a dream.

I spent the Monday before my birthday looking up who would inherit my debts if I die. I've spent so much time lately wondering what I would do in an active shooter situation and fearing being shot, but then I spent about 20 minutes considering several viable ways to quietly kill myself while Collin was playing DnD. The most obvious answer is all the pills. Then it's just so hot out right now. It was so hot. I thought I'd crawl into the back seat of my car and just let myself bake or whatever. Reputable sources on the internet told me that my parents are not likely to inherit my debts. But Collin has spent a lot of money on me lately. He's helping with school. So, if I weren't going to kill myself I'd have to refocus on my school work. We can't get married because then he would inherit my debts. So there's a track that I've passed.

I don't know if it's even reasonable that I'm disappointed. I don't really want a ring. Or a big wedding. Maybe I just want people to see that I can be loved. I've spent so much time feeling lonely. Everyone else got rings, babies, and houses. Maybe I just wanted to prove to my parents I could be loved. But at what cost? I'm such a miserable person. I'm messy and after years without healthcare I'm often violently ill. I'm a drag. I'm a dud. Collin deserves better. It's not right to want to be loved when you're fucked up and have nothing to offer another person. I guess he gets The Kitten out of it. She seems to make him really happy. That's always nice.

I'm not sure where pragmatism becomes pessimism becomes nihilism. I can't focus on it too hard because I have too much to do, but to what end? If I had graduated when I was meant to I might have a job now that pays somewhere around 50k, and perhaps, if I worked really hard, I could make it all the way up to like 80k by my 50s. If I graduate in August, which I am now set to do, best case scenario, I may get a job somewhere around 40k. I started my working life at such low wages it's unlikely I'll ever get to the same quality of life as my peers. I don't know what I was working before but all this new shiny Bachelor's degree is going to do is get me slightly nicer entry-level jobs. If I want anything better I have to apply for licenses that will cost several hundred dollars and additional studying and on-the-job experience, or I will need a Master's. So, I don't know what I even want out of my career because I need to pay off my debts if I could ever hope to marry the love of my life because if I do give in one day and kill myself I don't want him to have to deal with all my student loan debt. He just bought a house. He has not time for this shit.

Even if I don't kill myself I think I may legitimately have serious health issues. I throw up on the time because I can't breathe. I'm too tired. I'm 33 now, that's probably a death sentence on its own. It's hard for me to focus and absorb things. I may be going blind. It's also entirely possible there is absolutely nothing wrong with me. At the very least I know I have high cholesterol. I desperately want cookie cake. I don't drink enough water- but in my defense I recently found out that the whole year I've been living in Austin the water in Collin's house has been running yellow. He just runs it until it runs clear. So now The Kitten and I buy gallons of water. Gallons of water for the kitten to dip her paw into. Gallons of clean water put in a clean bowl destined to gather a small layer of fur and litter because she likes to drink by dipping her water into the bowl. Maybe it's the heat that is getting to me because I don't drink enough water.

I have started taking many vitamins. They are all gummy vitamins because I am not, and never will be, a real adult, so I cannot take real adult vitamins like a normal adult person.

I have no plans, so far off the path, for any semblance of survival. I have to wonder, so often considering the ways that I could personally bring about my own death, how willing am I to survive? I have responsibilities I suppose. There's assignments due for work. Homework due because Collin paid for the semester and that would suck to lose that money. I guess I should at least graduate and pay him back. The Kitten, obviously. And maybe my parents? I don't know how I would haul them around. I don't know how I would convince my father to let me help. I don't know if he's truly starting to suffer from dementia. I am impressed to find out my mother has started driving because she is so convinced he's becoming incapacitated. Is that even the right term? Eventually neither of them will be able to drive, so I'll need to talk them into moving wherever I am. Or maybe my sister would handle it. Maybe I really don't have as many reasons to live as I like to make up. The barriers could be much thinner.

I have so much writing to do today.

I don't want to be around anyone. I don't want to be around.

But if I'm not going to go ahead and kill myself, I have homework to do.