4 Kinds of Days
On a good day, I feel alright. I don’t feel like hurting myself or crying or as if I’m literally horrible. I don’t feel like my life sucks. While I don’t feel happy, I also don’t feel sad. It’s the type of content that I’ve had my whole life. It’s emotionless to others, but it’s more vulnerable to me because, in an instant, anyone and anything can change that and completely change my day easier than they can when I’m already hating myself that day.
On an okay day, I’m a bit iffy about how I should classify everything. I start over-analyzing things and thinking too much. I’m not sure if I hate myself or not because I keep having thoughts about things I did or said in the past, and I start to feel stupid or embarrassed or both, and then I wonder if they even remember it. I find myself wishing I could just start over again with life because I can’t change my past, and I really wish I hadn’t done some things. I don’t even see me when I picture those things; instead, I see a total stranger that looks like me. I may feel like crying today. I just don’t know yet.
On a fine day, I don’t want to hurt myself yet. I don’t want to go anywhere, either. I expect the worse things possible from everything and everyone. I expect questions I don’t feel like answering or have the answer to to be asked. I expect people to judge me ten times more today than any other day. I probably slept all day and stayed up all night. I’m probably fixed on the dumb things I did and said in the past and spend most of the day wishing I could start over to avoid those kinds of things. I’m more vulnerable than the okay day and the good day and much less vulnerable than the bad day.
On a bad day, I feel like anything and everything that could go wrong will go wrong eventually. I spend a lot of time wondering what the point of life is since all we do is go to school until we find this job we’ll spend the rest of our short lives doing, all the while spending money and time when we may not even be happy all the time for it. I think of how cliché life is in terms of the way the average person lives their life and just how mundane so much of life can actually be. It’s like the instructions on a shampoo bottle: live, spend, repeat. I can either feel like cutting or killing myself, or I may not. If I’m awake, I don’t want to be seen at all, and I mostly wish I could just stay sleeping. If I’m asleep, it’s probably because I slept most of the day, and I hate myself for having done that.