I lied to my mom tonight about not having any food in my house because I wanted her pity and concern. I told her I was going to have to eat yogurt and apple sauce for dinner, which I then did. The truth is, I have some frozen meals in my freezer that I usually take for lunches. I could easily have eaten one of those. Instead, I’m starving myself out of spite. Or in some bizarre form of silent protest.
I was laying outside on my patio after work staring up at the stars and freezing, and I thought, I’ll just stop eating. I’ll stop going to the grocery store and eventually I’ll run out of food. Then, I’ll starve. It would somehow serve the world right for me to do this to myself.
That was when I realized just how mad I am, and I am enraged.
I hate the world tonight. I hate life tonight. I hate how unfair it feels. I hate god for making me this person I am. I hate myself for every choice I’ve ever made. I hate it all.
At least, that’s how it feels right now. I have this massive amount of rage in me, and I have no idea what to do with it. The truth is, I don’t want to do anything with it. I want to turn it inward and watch myself crumble around it. I want to use it as an excuse to shut down and give up. I want to use it to stop caring, to stop trying. Because I’m tired. Because no one is coming. Because nothing is changing.
At least, that’s how it feels right now.
I’m going to go punch a pillow, scream a bit, and maybe have something to eat.