A glimpse into the thinking of a person known for emotional instability
This is where I belong. Beneath the freeway, loose dirt mingling with the exhaust fumes in a small field that belongs to the state. It doesn’t need caretaking as much as it needs someone present to keep the homeless from taking over. Ironic. I am here to keep people like me out. Utterly isolated here, this empty site without vo-workers or sn on site manager where “it could be a good fit for you since you will have minimum contact with the public. Or anyone else,” according to the supervisor who transferred me after the third site wanted me gone. Nothing here but stored garbage trucks for $x/hr. I’m not qualified to do anything, but even with skills what can I do if I’m not even fit to have contact with people? For the first time, as I look at the encircling garbage trucks, I know the outside of my life matches my inner world. I have not been able to maintain an acceptable front as if I am ok. It was one thing when I had a theory about not fitting in, but when others confirm they see the same thing in me…it’s not self pity it is cold hard truth. I am and have always been one thing. Life. Long. Loser. Can I change? I don’t know what to change. The complaints about me are always different snd never anticipated. The only thing sustaining me is thoughts of what I can enjoy in isolation. Food. Animals. Books. TV. Travel. Conversation is over. For the first time someone sees in me what i was always told was there, even by schoolmates and the constant hopelessness of finding superficial companionship (forget love or like!) has worn me down. End it? That’ll happen wo my help. So not yetJournal entry from 2015 of a person from Honolulu’s downtown.
A week later there’s a journal entry about a spur of the moment three day trip to Alaska, motivated by the desire and ability to do it all! This must be a glimpse into the swing between depression and mania. Perhaps this glimpse will enlighten readers about someone who mystifies them.