h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Remembrance Day.

This is only one of its names, and it's an odd name to be remembering in present circumstances. I just had one of the oddest experiences I've ever had...

Shortly before midnight, I think I had what could be termed a ‘psychotic' experience, except I didn't really feel like killing anyone, including myself. I was low, BSL-wise, I know that, but I was also profoundly depressed. There was no real reason to feel this way, but I did...

I think I'm coming round, now.

Nobody really reads this diary, anyway, I suppose.

I was sitting on my bed, and I felt, ‘vacant'. Not really there. I could hear the traffic on the road outside my window, but it wasn't as loud as it should have been. When I pinched myself, there was no real feeling in my arm. I could pinch myself quite hard, and it didn't hurt. I couldn't taste lemonade in my mouth, either, and I was chugging it down, to bring myself out of the hypo I was sure I was having, and which my blood-testing machine was reading levels to confirm. I felt no real antipathy, no real love, no real hate - no real anything, I guess. The weather outside is overcast, as I know from when I went outside to try and look at the stars to dispel some of my unhappiness: no stars, of course.

I'd been contemplating suicide. The Screaming Jets made a good song out of a line that was very similar to that, but the song didn't have the same psychological ramifications as my state at that time, which was leading, seemingly inexorably, towards self-immolation - or possibly self-mutilation. I was feeling frustrated. No job, no money, no love in my life, no friends who are good enough to stay and talk - only those who are good enough to read what I have to say here, without inquiring further. Some of the people I am pleased to call ‘friends' won't even do that, despite having the capability and much more money than I have. I was feeling psychologically isolated, desolate, destitute, and very alone. I live in a house with a man who is sufficiently self-centred as to be considered rude by virtually everyone who doesn't know him as well as his ‘best' friends (i.e., by virtually everyone), I long for a woman who doesn't want to consider anything I say except for the bits which are easy to accept, I am manipulated into volunteering for organisations which can use my help, but unable to find work with organisations who are capable and willing to pay for it as long as I am willing to lie about what I can do for them, I engage in talk all day but am never given the opportunity to say anything, and I am lonely, miserable, frustrated and angry about the way things are not working out for me. It seems very much as though there is no reason to keep on living - no one, evidently, would miss me for being gone. Even if I died, for example, no one at the ‘Guide would have any idea that this had occurred - possibly ever.

Most of this is merely the product of being home alone on a Friday night, but it builds up over the hours. One cup of coffee and there are several more of those hours than might otherwise be the case to negotiate your way through. Add a hypo to that scenario and you're well on the way to the coniption I was having a few minutes ago. Thankfully, though, all it takes to get to sleep is a good, long journal entry...!

Remembrance Days should not ever be held on Saturday - that gives far too many people far too much self-justification to do nothing about it.

Hmm.

I stop lookin' around for a couple of days and you go all morose on me... or should that be more morose Ah, well - you're as unpredictable as the weather, but I'm expecting a warm summer to eventuate (well, eventually).

Keep your chin up (um, or better still insert your own less jaded inspirational phrase) and don't think no-one ever reads your Journal - I may not always know how to respond, but you do got an audience

I hardly know you, but I worry about you. I don't know what that means, but I hope it means something.

I also read your journal all the time. Sometimes I respond because I can think of things to say. Sometimes I don't know what to say, but I almost always read it.

I'm a bit worried to. As stupid as this sounds, when you hit rock bottom the only place to go is up. You'll get there. Is there any way I can help?

Do you own a kitten or a puppy? If you don't you should go out and adopt one toute suite! I'm not saying that just to say it. I found that I got through my most depressive times by knowing that something out there was counting on me to love it no matter what. It really helps.

Does that help? Probably not. Let me know!

Thanks guys...!

That was a bit of an unusually bad night, and it has got a bit better since then. It's good to know that somebody else is around to know when I'm feeling miserable!

I acknowledge that things have got unusually bad, lately, too, but I'll try and keep some more interesting things bubbling along for future reference, as long as this rain stops, eventually....

Sorry to say, though, KL, I'm not a real animal fan...!

Oh my Bob!!!! He's a *pretend* animal fan!

(Also, dear Bob, while I have your attention: I second that call for a cessation of rain. I felt pretty relaxed about it till I saw the puppies turning their kennel into an ark. Still dunno how they got the whole 'cubit' thing figured out...)

As far as I'm concerned the only thing you need to do is hang in there. Don't bother pretending to be cheery for bubster and me. We don't care. We'll talk to you anyway.

*puts on her water wings*