For a while now - about two weeks apparently - I have been thinking about many things I could write a blog post about. Lots of self-important, grand topics to make statements about, after all. Maybe try to convince people to help me again to find a new house and generally become happier. But the thing is that none of that is actually meaningful.
I just tried to write a few paragraphs, but none of them worked. I'm simply too tired to make sense any more. The past days I'm struggling with depression, nausea, assorted other pains and especially today unrelenting thoughts about suicide. I'm terrified that I'll soon try to commit suicide again, and that I am powerless to stop it.
I can picture life fading from my body after a successful suicide attempt, and this is a picture which frightens me. I don't want to keep living, but to end things like that is wrong as well.
For the past... months? Years? I have begged people to help me find a place to live where I do not have to feel terrified and hated like in this current apartment, but that was pointless. Next I'll try paying people to find a house for me. Hopefully that will work and I can remove one major stress point from my life.
The stupid thing is that things aren't even going that poorly. I will likely get my medical situation resolved in a matter of months. I have a fun, well-paying job. I have places to hang out in this city with people I know. My hobbies are enjoyable, with a lot of successes especially in the electronics and FPGA-related projects. Yet I feel terrified as I lie in bed and hear the upstairs neighbour stomping about, or hear the heating system tick up a storm during cold days.
There is also the landlady threatening me on a regular basis with legal action because I have the nerve to complain about dirty, rusty water, excessive noise from upstairs and from the heating system, as well as other issues. I hate this place. I want to escape.
...I guess that's basically it. Just this stupid, run-down crappy apartment with a hateful landlady which is ruining my life at this point. The horrible situation with the Netherlands got resolved by me paying in the end for the honour of getting beaten up by the police, with about 25 people ultimately donating about two-thirds of the fine .
I don't really have an issue with paying thousands of Euros to someone who'll help me find a great place to live if it means that it buys more happiness, allows me to sleep peacefully without earplugs and reduces these feelings of depression and suicide.