Pileated and Harbor...oh, yes and Torquemada.

today is better. Saw a pileated woodpecker fly by, always majestic. Saw three harbor porpoises go by, a nice gift. Sadly I give more weight to the mean man and his unfortunate dog. I get the lows, but these moderate any potential highs. Another bad sleep, 3rd day on higher dose of effexor, perhaps it's an adjustment phase. When I'm tired it really overshadows - hello understatement - the day. I wonder if I could sleep in a sensory deprivation chamber - channel an inner Michael Jackson - and I should really use my little foam earplugs of which I have several.
death is with me, quietly clearing its throat, little taps on the shoulder, showing me things, my little companion. so I try to look up and around, to see who or what else might be with me. people suggest I do things to help others, I've tried doing this my whole life, but if there is a way to do it altruistically perhaps it's what I've been missing. don't I have the right to a happy life? I think everyone else has this right so why do I feel I should be denied this? why do I feel like I instead deserve only punishment? What have I done that is so bad? it's really mystifying in my head I know I'm not a bad person but there is another voice, more convinced, more certain, more insistent, so confident that I am bad and so this - this existence of feeling bad - is simply what I have coming to me. Was I Torquemada in a previous life? Must have been.
Thanks to all the kind people who try to help.

worst day I've had in a long time. black hole. inertia. zombie. made it through. so what really. hopefully tomorrow will be better. better would be nice.

Feeling so lost and empty. Space where there should be something, some feelings?? Other than the lost kind. Empty places where there should be hope, energy, love, inspiration. Emptiness. Someone one said that the only thing worse than being hated was being ignored. Convinced of my uselessness, it's so strong. Staring inside from a great distance. Quizzical, puzzled, inhuman. Tired all the time. Mired in nothingness, what is restraining me? Acting as if. Don't want to act. Want to be. Whatever Hamlet. I don't feel noble. I don't feel heroic. Just nothing. Wanted to help, couldn't do it. Can't help myself, it's a slow death of many little cuts. Nothing breaks into the numbness.