Today it dawned on me.
I am failing out of school. As if my life was not enough in shambles, even my abilities as a scholar have failed me. I keep repeating that I will not quit. I will not quit, I will not quit, I will not quit.
Algebra may in fact be the death of me.
Well no, I cannot lay all the blame on poor algebra. I bombed my last quiz, and today, I am fairly certain, barring a miracle that I have no belief in, that I have bombed my first psychology of gender test.
Except for those two boys, I will soon have very little to live for. And even they seem to be fading fast in my mind. A long talk with the sitter today pretty much confirmed much of what I already thought for some time now. I know I would rather not be around to see the damage being done to them now take its toll, and it apparently already is.
There have been a few happy moments, but for the most part, I can say that the last decade or so has been largely sad, and full of strife. The part that leaves me devoid of hope is that there does not seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel that I can see. I suppose decade is a bit long, perhaps eight years would be more accurate. One disappointment after the next. Interspersed with a few bright moments, too few, and too far in between.
And now it is just dark.
No one is looking at this, and that is just as well. It is going to be a long, lonely weekend. That suits me just fine, as I have no plans, and no desire to see anyone at all.
Dear Diary, today I considered not just quitting school, but quitting my entire life. It really has not gone as planned, and seems to be getting more and more unbearable by the day. Where as before I could not sleep, now all I want to do is sleep. This has gotten so bad diary, that my short nap yesterday resulted in me waking up groggy and incoherent close to 7pm, meaning I missed my research class. My co-workers have taken to calling me ‘zombie’, and I now find myself on the verge of tears at any given moment. A classmate yesterday described me as ‘menstrual’. I had hoped this would improve with time, and perhaps it will. Maybe diary, it is one of those, ‘get worse, before it gets better’ things. Or maybe not. I will soon be receiving a fair amount of money, with which I had planned to save, and pay some bills with. I am considering taking it, and maybe leaving instead. I have a good month to decide this at least, so, should things not improve, that will be what happens. I think what I am trying to say diary, is that I am at my wits end. Seeing that failing score drove me as close to the edge as I think I have ever been. In a week of heartbreak, and terrible disappointment, this was perhaps the most disappointing of all. I have grown accustomed to others letting me down, and taking me for granted, but this was different. I failed myself in a more direct fashion. Right there, in large numbers, in red ink. I took my own abilities for granted, and I let myself down. There are few things that bring a person lower than the realization that, you are not good enough. Not good enough for someone else, not good enough for school, not good enough for your children. My sigh is no longer a sigh, but a sort of half sob, because it comes out quickly in staccato. It is the breathy stutter of grief. Lacking any real conviction, or any real exit plan, I can only sit here and scream a virtual text-laden scream. I keep telling myself I cannot quit, but my words carry no weight. I try to remember the other times in my life where I quit on myself, for motivation. It has had the opposite effect however, becoming a lifetime of little failures that have led to this monumental collapse. The movie reel of gradual self-destruction. Soon I will be able to convince myself that there is nothing tying me to this place. There are a few individuals with kind words, and advice, and encouragement. But not many anymore, and that is just as well, as soon as I am finished alienating those few, then there will be no one left. I saw something today that made me think. Cars were slowly swerving around something in the street ahead of me as I drove, so I slowed down a little before so I could see what it was, and swerve around it myself. It was a seagull. A badly injured seagull standing in the middle of merrick road in heavy traffic. I swerved around it instinctively, and looked in my rear-view just in time to see the SUV behind me nail it head on, and end its miserable existence in spectacular fashion. It died in an explosion of blood and feathers, and the car did not even slow down. I did however. I changed lanes and took a last look at its flattened dead body. At first I was angry at the SUV driver. First of all, SUV drivers are resource wasting road hazards, and secondly, I felt sorry for the poor bird. It then suddenly dawned on me that perhaps it was not cruelty at all, but mercy. That bird had nothing left but suffering, and in one clean smash, its suffering was abated. I sympathized with the poor bird, but I was glad that it did not have to suffer any further. Sometimes dying is okay. That bird that once soared majestically was reduced to a quivering wreck in the middle of a road, overwhelmed and hurting badly. There is no dignity in that. People are like that too. For some, there is redemption. But some of us are slowly walking out of the cars paths, too tired, and too hurt to find their way back to the sidewalk. And too injured to fly again even if we by chance stumbled onto safe ground. For those, there is no disgrace in calling it a day. Facing down that SUV bravely, choosing their own way, and punching their own ticket. I learned more in the few seconds I watched that brave animal, than from anything else I have seen in my entire life. So I will futilely attempt more wretched polynomials diary, and then sleep. I am tired, again. Tomorrow I will awake in a fog, work with a hole in my chest, and then go home. Mostly likely I will sleep, try to smile and play with my boys, and then sleep again. This is not much of a life.
Might as well address this for what it is now.