Venting Vent box

[Preh1storic_Rib]

A vent box for me.
I'm unsure how I feel about venting here, paranoia is high. So it'll probably be nonspecific more descriptive stuff than anything for a bit. Probably not looking for replies, I just like feeling seen sometimes.

Spoiler: workout

Twleve steps forward and my mouth is so dry that it hurts to breathe, thirteen and I realise my nose is full of phlem. Fifteen, there's a sway to my step, a pause inbetween each footfall as I struggle to remember one foot infront of the other. Twenty, and I abandon the idea of resting all together, water, I need water. The door is loud, it creaks so noisily it's the only thing I notice until the air is waving as my hands press a mug against the running faucet. Water doesn't help, my vision darkens as I swallow and where my arm is leaning against the windowsill it feels heavy. Moving away is a matter of the entire body rather than just a bit of strength to the limb, and it inspires the smallest flair of panic in my head. I want to puke, I want to. I want something to focus on other than the pretty fissures floating across my vision, following, twirling, as I try to hide. I know I'm visibly staggering now, my ears are ringing, everything sounds tinny. It's hard to keep my head up. The bathroom light is on, I flipped the switch. I know I did, but still, coming out of it, standing up, pushing my body away from the wall, it comes as a surprise that I can see my legs shake in the windowless room.

 

[Preh1storic_Rib]

I want to bash my head in

 

[Preh1storic_Rib]

I'm irrational right now. I think maybe some form of self preservation and apathy mix that's festered into something new.
I hate hospitals. Its one of my biggest fears I think. Being trapped there again where no one cares but worse because they see this everyday, there's not even shock left.
I'm irrational right now because I don't particularly care. I want to hang myself, but that would fail because I'm impulsive right now and don't have a doorway or funds for a hotel and rope, and I'm too geared up to go looking for a place outside. It would fail but I don't care because I want to be gone and my head doesn't feel safe. And if I can't be gone I at least want it to stop. And that's what they're supposed to help with right?
But they don't. I know they don't and I'm terrified. Because I know those places just make everything worse, but I don't care if there's even a sliver of a chance I'll be gone. And I don't think I've ever been at that mindset before.

 

[Preh1storic_Rib]

I don't know what to do.

I was gonna die in seven days, I still want to. But the same thing that happened last year is happening again and my younger brother is coming up to stay with me for the summer. And I don't know what would happen to them if they didn't. Maybe it'd be fine and they'd still come up but just visit my sister instead, probably stay less time. But I doubt it. Mom was always going to be a loose canon but given everything I don't- I don't know.

But I want to die in seven days. I don't want to exist for over 83 more, waiting for my brother to leave and then a paycheck to come in so things line up just right. I don't want to reach 21 and continue existing. 20 is already too far. I really just want to be 15 and dead but I can't so I have to settle with what I have and-
I think often if I somehow went back in time whether or not I'd kill myself again or continue to be a coward about it. If I could be happy or if the combination of circunstances and my own head would work together to stop any chance. And I'd come out of it with the same conclusion that even if things get better, there's only so much before, until its not worth it.

I think sometimes, that I want to get better. I want to be decent. I want to be worthy of living and loving and taking up space and inevitably contributing to everything wrong in the world. And then I feel disgusted with myself. But I still want to get better so I go to the doctor. Only, by the time I've arrived at the appointment I've remembered again why I don't deserve to be better and why I can't be even if I tried. So nothing happens outside of another pretty bottle of pills that I can take in droves when I want to feel light headed and dizzy for a while.

I don't think I deserve to get better, but if I'm alive I should be decent, so I need to die. And I don't want to wait more than seven days.