Current mood: crushed
As you've probably read, my life has been in the dumps. At least that's my opinion. Don't worry I brought a long evidence to support it.
Regardless of the argument, five days in Vegas should remedy that or at the very least relieve some of the symptoms. Especially when it was going to be my last hurrah with my little brother before he got married.
Unfortunately, my mother wanted to make it as Peoria...scratch that...AC Morton as possible. Different time zone, but same crap. Frustrating since I saved up as much of my unemployment as possible to have fun.
Damn WGN's "Around the World for Free" when you can't do Vegas on a hundred bucks.
Yes, Penn & Teller were awesome, Santana did his thing well, but I don't go to Vegas for the shows. I like to try my luck, but I only end up with $50 to do so. Hell, with my li'l bro, I thought I'd have people to socialize with for a change. But when your Mom is determined not to be embarrassed in any possible way (using your brother as the justification), I'm left watching cable in their bedroom realizing that no matter where I go, the my dilemma remains the same.
Wednesday:
Saw Penn & Teller, came back to hotel room knowing I'd have little money to gamble with, so better save. End up getting an earful from my little sister that I have to live my life how everyone else does since that is the reason I'm depressed. Told her how I accepted responsibility for my life, and that's why I argue with myself about ending it each night. But the night ended with promise since my li'l brother said we'd paint the town the next day since he didn't think I'd be able to enjoy the bachelor party.
Thursday:
Went to the pool with my bro and his fiance, lunch, and even went to the courthouse to get their license. I went to take a break from them since they got talked into going to Freemont by her parents. Rand said we were on afterwords, so I didn't intend to go, especially since I didn't have the coin. My mom got out of her drunken stupor enough to join them on the excursion, and since I needed something to do, I tagged along. Eventually, I'm getting ready to kill the time till Rand got to me when my mom orders me to the hotel because "it's all about him and he doesn't want you around." This is when it was also determined that I would now have similar boarding arrangement to the ones I have now. No privacy and no objection to what my mom determines is right. It was also made clear that Mom had no clue about how I feel, and even if she did, she couldn't understand....scratch that...she refuses to understand.
Friday:
Went to the pool with my bro and his company, and then to lunch with family. Followed that up by seeing "The Hangover" with my parents. Then just stayed in the hotel not wanting to do anything since I had no cash to gamble, no social network to hang out with. I'd just accepted that life won't get better wherever I'm at. No one to blame but myself.
Saturday:
Did I mention I stayed sober the prior two days in hopes to get a tattoo at Las Vegas Tattoo Club in the Miracle Mile shops? Even got the idea for a Tokidoki design to get done. A couple of drinks and I was drunk for the rehearsal. Fortunately, I played it off well. My mom didn't know until how she talked about how we were going to get hammered after the wedding. She also gave me grief about how I didn't seem to want to get a girl to marry. I told her there was a lot of psychological stuff that I wasn't going to talk to her about. So I get more grief as the days goes on. To the point that after the wedding, Rand has a picture taken with me just to apologize for how bad my weekend was.
Sunday:
I saw Santana, and it was awesome, but can't say I did anything worthwhile beyond that.
I actually had therapy today. More appointments set, but no improvement. I just said I'm waiting till I finally end it. He said things aren't getting worse for me, but I failed to tell him how every new thing I try falls upon death ears. Nothing will get better. My Dad even acknowledges how horrible my life is.
I am just the ultimate down note. My therapist said "You can't make the suicide decision because You are depressed. You are not in any position to make that decision."
I'm sorry, even when I'm having a fun, I take a look at my life and wonder why I don't have a FOID card. When something really good happens, I want to die because I can leave with an accomplished. Why couldn't I have been stabbed after I bought my $30 Smorkin' Plush Labbit.
Is there really more to life than owning a stuffed bunny with five o'clock shadow, cigarette, and butt-hole?
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