2004-09-10 - 7:31 p.m.
I'm wrapped up right now in the idea that perhaps I can't be happy,perhaps there is nothing else. But if I can't hope for anything better, why hope at all? If the is "the way it is," if this crushing sadness and self-hatred is my existence, what is the point? If I can't believe in something better for myself, how is it fair for me to encourage clients and friends to believe in something better for themselves? If I don't believe each morning that today could be better, I'd just as soon stop waking up. And it is a haunting idea for me, that I may have to find a purpose without hope.
I've lived this long on the belief that something is going to change, that I would at the very least stop thriving on the physical sensation of emptiness or surviving on self-inflicted pain. And how is what I do now any better than heating the round edges of safety pines and holding them into my stomach until the heat was gone? Instead I'm hurting myself inside, losing muscle recovery and bone density, being able to watch my blood pressure drop, being constantly dehydrated to the point of passing. Am I getting better, or trading a concrete, visible method of hurting myself for one that people will mistake for health? I've lost 10 lbs in 2 weeks and am needing smaller clothes again, single digit sizes now. So am I "better," or do I just hid it better?
And if I'm not wrong in some integral way, why am I so unhappy? These are the things that haunt me now, keep me from sleep.
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