That's how I feel. There is no escape. I can't see any release. My mum phoned me today from Kampala just before she left for the airport. And she said it's okay, you'll be coming in February. Yes. And dooming myself. The Luscher test that I am prone to taking decisions without thinking them through.
WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? I really have nobody. I have a frigging stupid arse for a father and I don't know. Emerson thinks it's so easy to do this individualist thing. You were a fucking white Christian man. You ended up being appreciated for your vision, philosophy and poetry. Even if it was three centuries later. What the fuck do I have to look forward to?
I am alone. I am completely and utterly alone. I have no hopes for the future.
I have no marriage about to happen, I have no career waiting to happen. And I know, I am supposed to bring these all about by myself. Well, what the fuck is this all about that us INFPS are like the soil who absorb the light and energy of the sun before they can reflect it back? Why am I surrounded by people who can't understand it? Why don't I understand it?
I took the 'geography cure'. I moved from Toronto to London. I have the sneaking suspicion that I should have waited at least a month after I graduated. But then, I had since May to pack and I didn't. So, it wouldn't have really mattered, would it have?
So my depression worsened. And now I am on fucking antidepressants that some people say I don't need. My GP says it's moderate depression and I think it is severe. I forget to take my medication and the effects wear off in 36 hours. There are books lying about unread and I don't find pleasure in watching television, either.
My brain and my creativity and my intelligence have all gone for a long walk. Umair has abandoned me. And that pisses me off. M tried to make nicey-nice with me after completely and utterly blowing me off. I could really give her hell. But she really is just not worth it. I get no benefit from her. She reminds me of H. And S F. They take and they take but never give anything. Tarts.
And A? What about her? It's guilt. I really don't need her either. She thinks a phone call will make it all better. It would have if I wasn't so fed up of always trying to find my soul mate friend and so I venture out in the world and try to make friends, try to keep them at an acquaintance stage and then because I am so lonely, I try to create attributes for them that are just part of my imagination. I hardly get anything from her either, because she is not willing to share. She's so busy being busy. Pisses me off.
TARTS.
And this really, really shouldn't bother me because, although they are nice people, they aren't really my type of people. But for some stupid reason I always let myself get so close to them. So utterly close to them and then I HURT MYSELF.
Fati was so nice, she actually gave me Kartography. I don't know why that book means so much to me, but I am ever grateful to her for just giving it to me. I would never have taken it but I just love the book so much and, well, I am quite selfish. I owe her a lot and will have to think up of something priceless to do for her or give to her. Tough call.
Look, God. This is my last plea.
It is Eid-e-Ghadeer. I am at the end of my tether, and even if I am not, I swear I will do something really drastic. I have the paracetamol; I have the hypericum; I have the citalopram. I have a knife which I won't be using.
But, come on, God. Please.
I don't know what I am praying for except that Your wish and mine become one wish. Your desires should be mine. Because, after everything, I only trust You and Your decisions. In my heart of hearts, in my soul. It's you who Sees and I am blind. But please give me strength. I don't even respect my dad - like the bare respect you give a human being. It fucking sucks.
WHY? WHY? WHY? Such neuroticism and such patheticness and such intensity that burns itself out and I just become the same useless piece of shit I was the day before? I get nothing from nobody about nothing.
Can't you just finish this off? You make good people go away; what about the bad people and their prayers? I seriously do not have a place in this world, in the way I envisioned it. I have always been the thing that was wrong in the machinery of life. I have always felt it. I am not even intelligent. Fucking take me away already! Please.
I HAVE NO WAY OUT. NO WAY OUT. NONE WHATSOEVER.
And now Benazir Bhutto has been murdered and life in Pakistan will get a lot worse than it is right now. And am I supposed to go back, stay in London or go somewhere else in the 30oC equatorial belt? Will I marry? Will I adopt children? Will I have a career? If the answer is NO on all accounts or even one of these.........just END IT.
It's Imam Ali's day, it's Prophet (SAW)'s day. For both of their sakes', make a conclusion to this. This grey area is suffocating me.
WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? I really have nobody. I have a frigging stupid arse for a father and I don't know. Emerson thinks it's so easy to do this individualist thing. You were a fucking white Christian man. You ended up being appreciated for your vision, philosophy and poetry. Even if it was three centuries later. What the fuck do I have to look forward to?
I am alone. I am completely and utterly alone. I have no hopes for the future.
I have no marriage about to happen, I have no career waiting to happen. And I know, I am supposed to bring these all about by myself. Well, what the fuck is this all about that us INFPS are like the soil who absorb the light and energy of the sun before they can reflect it back? Why am I surrounded by people who can't understand it? Why don't I understand it?
I took the 'geography cure'. I moved from Toronto to London. I have the sneaking suspicion that I should have waited at least a month after I graduated. But then, I had since May to pack and I didn't. So, it wouldn't have really mattered, would it have?
So my depression worsened. And now I am on fucking antidepressants that some people say I don't need. My GP says it's moderate depression and I think it is severe. I forget to take my medication and the effects wear off in 36 hours. There are books lying about unread and I don't find pleasure in watching television, either.
My brain and my creativity and my intelligence have all gone for a long walk. Umair has abandoned me. And that pisses me off. M tried to make nicey-nice with me after completely and utterly blowing me off. I could really give her hell. But she really is just not worth it. I get no benefit from her. She reminds me of H. And S F. They take and they take but never give anything. Tarts.
And A? What about her? It's guilt. I really don't need her either. She thinks a phone call will make it all better. It would have if I wasn't so fed up of always trying to find my soul mate friend and so I venture out in the world and try to make friends, try to keep them at an acquaintance stage and then because I am so lonely, I try to create attributes for them that are just part of my imagination. I hardly get anything from her either, because she is not willing to share. She's so busy being busy. Pisses me off.
TARTS.
And this really, really shouldn't bother me because, although they are nice people, they aren't really my type of people. But for some stupid reason I always let myself get so close to them. So utterly close to them and then I HURT MYSELF.
Fati was so nice, she actually gave me Kartography. I don't know why that book means so much to me, but I am ever grateful to her for just giving it to me. I would never have taken it but I just love the book so much and, well, I am quite selfish. I owe her a lot and will have to think up of something priceless to do for her or give to her. Tough call.
Look, God. This is my last plea.
It is Eid-e-Ghadeer. I am at the end of my tether, and even if I am not, I swear I will do something really drastic. I have the paracetamol; I have the hypericum; I have the citalopram. I have a knife which I won't be using.
But, come on, God. Please.
I don't know what I am praying for except that Your wish and mine become one wish. Your desires should be mine. Because, after everything, I only trust You and Your decisions. In my heart of hearts, in my soul. It's you who Sees and I am blind. But please give me strength. I don't even respect my dad - like the bare respect you give a human being. It fucking sucks.
WHY? WHY? WHY? Such neuroticism and such patheticness and such intensity that burns itself out and I just become the same useless piece of shit I was the day before? I get nothing from nobody about nothing.
Can't you just finish this off? You make good people go away; what about the bad people and their prayers? I seriously do not have a place in this world, in the way I envisioned it. I have always been the thing that was wrong in the machinery of life. I have always felt it. I am not even intelligent. Fucking take me away already! Please.
I HAVE NO WAY OUT. NO WAY OUT. NONE WHATSOEVER.
And now Benazir Bhutto has been murdered and life in Pakistan will get a lot worse than it is right now. And am I supposed to go back, stay in London or go somewhere else in the 30oC equatorial belt? Will I marry? Will I adopt children? Will I have a career? If the answer is NO on all accounts or even one of these.........just END IT.
It's Imam Ali's day, it's Prophet (SAW)'s day. For both of their sakes', make a conclusion to this. This grey area is suffocating me.