Disposable

I dunno. I was doing really good there for a while. I’ve actually been getting exercise and I was starting to lose weight. Got down to 268. Back up to 282 after a week. Everything just feels like pointless busy work to me. None of it seems to matter. None of it seems to…

There was a video I was watching recently, while I was busy comparing myself to everyone else and finding myself wanting, and one of the people in it said something that really stuck with me:

“People like us are disposable.”

It actually hurt me. It hurt because it was true. It hurt because it was me. I know I serve no purpose other than to take up space and resources. At best my current purpose is to be Robert’s babysitter as he continues to spiral down the rabbit hole of his own issues. Anyone can do that though. Most probably far better than I ever could. I guess being something is better than nothing. But sometimes… sometimes the idea of being nothing feels so much more right.

Don’t worry. I’m not talking about hurting myself. Well, actually I kind of am. I’m too much of a chicken to go down that specific road but I have other ways of, should I say, “punishing” myself. And boy do I deserve to be punished. Useless. Horrible. Pointless. As my mother once yelled at me when we were having an argument:

“AT LEAST I’M NOT A FAG!”

That was the first and only time the subject of my sexuality was broached between us. And my response was to simply turn and walk away. Christ. It’s all wrong. All of it. I’m wrong. Everything I do is wrong. Everything I am is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

What the fuck am I? WHY the fuck am I? I don’t like this game. I don’t want to play any longer. The rules are so arbitrary. The winners are often picked before they even begin playing. I know I’m not going to win. The cards I was dealt suck. They suck so bad. Just put them down and walk away. The game will continue whether you take your turn or not.

Finally got my shoes yesterday. They feel really strange and are a bit hard to walk in. I’m trying not to use my brace so I don’t end up stretching them out like I did my other shoes. Plus I want to see just how corrective they are. My right foot seems to be doing much, much better. The left one? Not so much.

I’m seeing my podiatrist later today. He should be happy that I’ve finally got them. But, I’m sure he won’t be happy about the fact that my ulcer broke open again. It just happened the other day too. I noticed little red splotches all over the kitchen floor when I got up in the morning. Two guesses as to what they were and spaghetti sauce is definitely wrong. I don’t know what he’s going to want to do. This whole situation is so unbelievable stupid.

I need to make an appointment for my GP. I think she told me she wanted to talk to me again after two months. It’s been about one and a half. That should be good for scheduling since they can’t make appointments further than a month out for SOME REASON! I don’t even remember why it was that she wanted to talk to me so much sooner than usual. Maybe I’m dying. Wouldn’t that be a hoot!

Even typing right now feels like a chore. The weight of my failure is suffocating me. Need to get up and start getting ready for my appointment. I don’t even really have to do anything. I just have to show up.

Why is all of this so hard?

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