Persistence (the Bad Kind)

The Dream is coming back, stronger than ever.

I got let go from my job back in December, and while I've never looked back, I've been unemployed for far too long now. I've piled up more debt. I'm hiding from several people. And in times like this, I turn to my fantasy of running away.

I haven't checked my email in a long time. I opened the browser window to find the most recent one when I applied for state health insurance and saw that I had over 160 unread emails, and I just don't have the willpower to go through them. I don't have the strength to be berated by CapitalOne for not making my payments and my credit score going down as a consequence. I don't have the mental capacity to visualize exactly how far overdrawn my checking account is from bills I had set up to auto-pay. I just can't.

My excuse is, I can't "right now". But It's been like that for a month, and I don't know when "right now" is going to end, or if it ever will. In fact, my need to run away is making me consider setting up an entirely new email account just to get out from under it.

Suicidal ideation is a product of a very bad mixture of currently-untreated mental illness and current events. I wouldn't have to deal with this if I were dead.

That part scares people when I mention it. I've been shamed into keeping those thoughts to myself. When, really, if I don't talk about them in a casual setting, it makes me feel worse about having them at all. I'm never going to act on them. One could argue, however, that there's no point in bringing it up if they don't affect you to the point of consideration.

That being said, consideration and desire are two very different things to my OCD. Is it true that death is technically a way out of hardship? Yes. Do I want to kill myself? Absolutely not. Ultimately, my want to live is greater than my want to die, and the cons otherwise heavily outweigh the pros. I love my family too much to nonconsensually dump the consequences of my shitty decision-making on them. But the obsessive-compulsive part of me has to consider every option for some kind of debate. And I always have to have plans A-Z prepared, just in case mania strikes and I do something stupid and harmful and act on some random impulse that crosses my monkey brain.

One of these days, I'm sure I'll learn how to face my problems like a real adult, but right now, turning to the fantasy of flight is immensely comforting when I need it the most.

I've been looking at places I could trade my car in for a cargo van.