I don't want to die, FYI

Thursday, April 11, 2013

I just deleted a post I wrote at 2 in the morning about something and I ended it with a “I want to be dead. I just want to be dead.”

It was an exaggeration, as are all of the other times I write about wanting to be dead. I never mean it. I say some variation of “I wish I were dead” probably 8, 9 times a day and I very rarely ever mean it.

It doesn’t even sound like a really bad thing to me anymore? I’ve desensitized myself. It’s like how a few months ago I jokingly, but forcefully, said “cunt” when I dropped a piece of paper. I thought it would be funny that someone would get that angry over dropping a piece of paper. And it was funny. Now somehow, months later, it’s become something I accidentally say when I drop things. Not with as much force. A quiet, unassuming “cunt” escapes my lips when I casually bend over to pick up dropped pens. I say it like it’s interchangeable with a more benign “shoot” or even just a slight sigh.

When I say or write “I wish I were dead,” what I really mean is usually something less severe, like:

•    I haven’t had four functioning light bulbs in my ceiling fan for 2 years and it’s making me feel nervous because I feel like that’s something only a mentally unbalanced person would live with.

•    I haven’t fallen in front of people in so long and it’s making me anxious because I know that means it’s going to happen soon.

•    I haven’t really talked to the dog at my work in a couple days outside of the daily “what’s up, pup?”, “hey girl” and “gotta pee?” and I’m worried that means I’ll be a bad pet owner.

•    I am so gross with how poorly I take care of my face and it makes me feel like a shitty person because thems holds my eyeballs and I can’t replace it if it goes.

I’m just not good at expressing myself. But I’m fine. I don’t really want to die. I mean, sometimes I do. Like when my toast is a little too dark or when I need to pump gas when it’s cold out, but a girl has to have her living standards, man.

Plus, I feel like lately I have been provoking you guys a lot more, and I've been getting more concerned emails (LOL, STOP WITH THOSE), and it's just becoming exhausting. When are you guys going to learn that it’s okay if you don’t find me funny, and it’s okay if you don’t agree with my sense of humor, and it’s okay if you don’t want to read my blog? I feel bad when a joke of mine makes someone feel bad because that is never my intention, but I’m not going to apologize for the actual joke or observation. Because fuck you (but only with your explicit permission, and a photo ID stating your birth date)! It’s all okay! We’re all in this together! A million different senses of humor! No one has the final say on what is funny because humor is subjective!

I want to murder all of you!