Darkland|org

I'm the family member that kills themself. Every family has one.
    

I can't reconcile what happened to me last year. I can't even write about it here because I feel like it will be interpreted as either self-pity or an attempt to manipulate others' feelings.

My brother and niece are emotionally unsafe.
My sister attempts to offer toxic positivity.
I guess it's not their job to care or work with my brain the way it exists.
I've outlived my stay with the friend I've been staying with.
It would be inappropriate to share a lot of my feelings with another friend due to their emotional issues.

To be clear: I am not being hyperbolic. I am not trying to use this post as a weapon. This is profoundly fucked.

I reached out to my niece while I was processing the grief from a grave loss. She's emotionally unsafe. I'll never be vulnerable with her again. (Place your mouse pointer inside the box below to display the conversation. It's masked because it makes me physically ill to look at.)

    

I had ideations of typing out some detailed rant about my mental health. But fuck it. It's not going to change anything in any real sense, and I will still see no path forward, and I will still not want to live anymore. So there's no point in writing about it.

Was thinking about that friend and that super long text they sent me.

I know there are people who care about me. That knowledge isn't enough to make life feel like it's worth living anymore. I'm just so exhausted from all of the shit, and people who want for nothing telling me, "life is by no means fair", the ghosts that haunt me, and all the decisions made out of anxiety and depression. It's understood. I mean, we all understand that permanent physical disabilities and chronic pain that interfere with major life activities are a contributor to depression, yeah?

I know who and what I used to be, but now feel completely disconnected from that me.
    

I turned sixty on 25 August of this year. I was homeless twenty days later.

A friend sent me a super long text yesterday telling me to use the theft of my home as a springboard in to a new chapter/adventure--I don't remember the exact wording, but that's the gist.--of exciting possibilities.

Yesterday was the worst pain day I've had in a while. So far today is pretty bad, too. I know my friend was trying to be helpful and [unintentionally toxically] positive, but I don't think they understand the extent of the damage to my body--or mind, for that matter. Compound that with age, and I can't just pickup and "start again" like I could, and did, in my twenties, thirties, forties, and attempted to do in my fifties until a workplace injury and some cascading [damaged] leg problems ended that effort.

So, yeah. My situation is an extreme blow. I don't have the physical ability or resources to dig out of it on my own this time.

To  be fair, I had help from others during those other times of picking up and moving on. The reason that I'm not living in my car now is because I'm being giving help. The difference between now and then was I was much more resilient and much less damaged.

I just don't know how to pick up this time. I'm losing the struggle with the mental and physical damage and pain. 
    

Took my bicycle to Pullman, WA yesterday to ride the Bill Chipman Palouse Trail. The rail trail1runs runs for 11.25 km (7 mi) between Pullman and Moscow, ID.2

The experience was super disappointing. Cracks in the asphalt (bitumen) surface are so numerous and so big and so poorly patched that it's completely unusable as a transportation corridor. By numerous, I mean cracks every 3 to 20 meters for the length of the part I rode. Most cracks were much wider than my 26"x2.00" tires.

The trail isn't practical for bicycle commuting because the cracks make traveling at an efficient speed difficult. I spent so much time focusing on the cracks and standing in the pedals that I could never focus on anything else or gain any speed. And they would be absolutely damaging to the wheels of a bike loaded with groceries. I suppose an #ebike with large low pressure tires wouldn't be affected too badly, but that's an exception to what most cyclists use.

The attached photos are just a representative few and illustrate the magnitude of the problem. No wonder I almost never see more than an occasional walker or runner. Cyclists are extremely rare. I gave up and turned around after less than 4 km. 

The City of Moscow independently maintains the trail from the Idaho/Washington border to its connection with the Paradise Path. Perhaps I'll attempt to ride that segment of the trail someday and record its condition.

Oh, well. Money wasted by #government agencies, and a really bad look for the spending of transportation dollars on cycling.
    

1: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rail_trail

2: https://whitmancounty.org/Facilities/Facility/Details/Bill-Chipman-Palouse-Trail-3

They took it all. My home. My future. My purpose. My community. My neighbors.

Everything.

I can't recover from this. I don't want to be alive anymore.

Rode my bike to the store tonight to pick up a few things.

I found the world to be extremely ugly, and nowhere during the outing did I find any joy.

There was no joy even in riding my bike. I'm in deep trouble, and I don't know that I want to climb out.