I finished “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”. It ended sadly, as all slave books do. The hero Tom gets beaten to death by a master that has no regard for the black’s life, or any other life for that matter. The reason I read the book was to learn. I had no idea how cruel another human being was to another race than I did in this book. And it still goes on in other races. The human trafficking is just another example of slavery, though it is being brought to the TV shows, such as Law and Order: SVU and Criminal Minds, more than the news.
My sister just called to remind me that I am to pick up my niece around five. Not looking forward to going out. It is quite warm out. I hope the temp drops a little bit. It’s not humid just very hot. I got the AC on. I had turned it off because my room got chilly but now it’s back to being hot again.
I have yet to finish my editing. I want to get to it sometime this week. I think the reason I haven’t written anything new is because the editing is hanging over me. I wanted to write yesterday but soon as I opened the word doc, my mind blanked out like the page. I hate when that happens.
I’m feeling very angry that I am made to have to live when I don’t want to. It’s been troubling me that I don’t know why I am still here. I should have take my life ages ago, yet I am still here. Makes me think that maybe I am just not “suicidal” enough or something. Maybe I am a coward. Now that I have finished the “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” book earlier than I thought, I really don’t know what to do with myself for the rest of the week. Sure, I have other books to read. But I have no goals, nothing to really look forward to. I no longer work, so that is out. I can’t go for a walk because it will aggravate my foot/ankle. I just feel so melancholy all the time. Meds haven’t helped me, despite taking the vitamin D. I have a lot of time on my hands and it has contributed to me feeling sad and thinking about death. I am tired of being tired. As much as I try to convey this to my doctors and therapist, I don’t think they truly understand my suffering. I think if they did, maybe then they would allow me to die with dignity. I just don’t want to live anymore. Each day is the same. Nothing interests me, nothing brings me joy or happiness, whatever happiness is. I don’t think I have ever been happy. I don’t believe in it. It is too fleeting an emotion. I would like to feel content with my life, but how do you do that when you are in pain every day and think about taking your life because of it? It just makes no sense to me why I should be living this life this way. I didn’t do anything to deserve it, least I don’t think I did. I have not been mean to anyone on purpose, I haven’t killed anyone. The only person I want dead is me. My therapist wants me to live her sake, not mine. I hate her for that.
I have not heard anything back from the NY Times. I am not holding my breath because I know there is a one in a million chance of them reading my email. Or maybe they have and my story is just not good enough. I plan on emailing the AAS to see if they are going to review my book. It has been a month since I have heard from them and still no word. That might be enough to lighten my spirits for a little bit. It’s hard doing this back and forth living/dying thing. Yes, I want to die, but I don’t know how to really do it without hurting a lot of people. So I just continue to go on being. And it hurts so much because I would rather be dead than be in so much pain every day. Trouble is that no one knows the suffering going on behind the scenes.