Yesterday I mentioned to someone that I must be feeling better because I felt like resuming work on my newest novel, Viral Desire. This was not true.
The past weeks have been grueling for me, with a sharp increase in my suicidal moods. This morning I awoke pretty much sobbing and feeling sure that suicide is the only meaningful thing to do at this point. In some ways I can blame the hope I had for a rapid pick-up of the story by the media and the resulting salvation. It's hard to imagine that it's only been a week since the article got published. The stress as a result of his dangerous hope has made it seem like a month or longer.
Right now I'm not feeling that horrible, just extremely tense and highly agitated. It doesn't take much to make me snap at people or punch or otherwise hurt myself when something isn't working out. My abdominal surgery wounds and the knee and wrist injuries are also hurting a lot right now as they have for the past days. It all doesn't make me very happy.
The real source of my stress is however still the way the Netherlands has treated me. I can not understand, comprehend or even justify what the Dutch physicians, psychologists and politicians have done to me. Any attempt to let the full extent of what they have done to me flood into my awareness just makes me want to collapse sobbing and die on the spot. I honestly have no words for how evil and inhumane they have been and still are. The descriptions I have given before can not possibly convey the absolute horrors. I can not deal with it. I can not give it a place. It's made it impossible for me to enjoy or expect anything out of life. I'm a mere shell as a result of their actions.
The thought that the media might not care about this what has happened to me and is happening to me still as well as to countless others in the Netherlands and elsewhere terrifies me. It could not be that other, far less important stories get all the attention when the extermination of a whole group of people is occurring every day? I do not think I could deal with such a disappointment and I pray it isn't the case. There's nothing I can do by myself to improve my situation, after all.
Leaving the Netherlands has proven to be impossible. This month I'll try something less drastic, namely ask for help with moving to the nearby city of Deventer. It'd get me away from the Dutch bible belt, into a less hostile environment and prevent a financial disaster as new laws this year for people on welfare will soon make it impossible for me to stay at my mother's place. It does depend on the generosity of others, though, since I'm not rich and can not rent an apartment for 800 Euro or more a month, which is the starting price for an apartment in the Netherlands. Being around my mom all day is proving to be more and more difficult as well. Not having my own room and being forced to spend every day with the two of us in the same living room is maddening. She has been chewed out by the system for being too old to work and I got my own desperate situation. It's not motivating me, instead making me want to kill myself even more.
I considered titling this post 'Still Red Alert: I'm A Suicide In Progress' or 'Will You At Least Help Me Kill Myself?', but figured that might be a tad extreme. It doesn't take away from the fact that I might very well take those pills later today and die or yet again tear out a few chunks of my own flesh as something snaps inside once more.
This country wants me to die and has nearly succeeded. It's not hope which is keeping me alive any more. Merely a final promise thanks to my current lawyer and the media that my case and situation do matter and that I didn't do anything to deserve my current spiral towards a sudden death. I have never had anyone keep an important promise to me, though.
Why I may or may not be dead before the end of this month... I f*cking wish I could write about happy stuff, but I just HATE everything that is going on now. All people tell me is 'just wait a bit longer', 'it'll be fine', 'you are an example to so many others', 'your existence does matter', and so on. I stopped caring about such meaningless comments. Words ARE meaningless. Only actions mean something.
Like talking about suicide is useless. I wish I can stop talking about it. Only two ways for this to happen. Only one way I can control.