Sunday, Apr 7, 2024 at 5:31 PM

I'm feeling terrible today. Not as terrible as I've felt yesterday, and definitely not as terrible as the day before, but still terrible.

I've been sick for a week now, and still am. A deep cough, high fever, snotty nose... the whole nine yards.

I'm not well mentally either. I'm not sure if I'm depressed or just stressed. Maybe I'm both. I'm most definitely overwhelmed, that's for sure.

I've got too much to do. Too many things to take care of. Too many people to get back too. Too many DMs. Too many emails. Too many obligations, projects, and things I want to do. Too many things I have to do. It's all too much.

It's been a recurring theme that last 18 months or so: too much. Too much work, too much time in front of the computer or the phone, caring too much about other companies, people, things. Caring too little about myself. And my family.

I do have a family, and they are suffering too. Not as much as I am, but every time I bite off more than I can chew, nearly suffocating in the process, I suffocate them too. At least in part. I don't have time for them, I don't have room for them. I'm in a bad mood constantly. Stressed, overwhelmed, most days in full-on despair. The burden I have to carry is my burden, but me being crushed by it is crushing my family in turn. My wife mostly, as the kids are too young to realize. But they can feel it too. My 4yo can feel it, and I hate it.

I hate myself that I brought everyone in this situation. I hate myself that I'm not able to spend more time with her. I hate myself, period. I hate that I'm grumpy every morning, at the edge of losing it right at the start of the day. I hate that oftentimes I come home late at night, completely exhausted, without any energy left to play with my kids. I hate that I have a headache. I hate that I'm unwell. I hate that I'm unable to bring joy to the household, my own house, that I worked so hard to provide for my family. And now we have it, and I'm falling apart, taking half my family down with me in the process. And if I don't manage to get my act together it will all be gone. House, family, health, and myself too. I'll simply vanish, and all the things I thought I'd have to do will vanish too.

Maybe that's why people kill themselves. It's one way to clear the TODO list. It's one way to quiet the mind. It's one way to end the suffering.

It's not that you want to jump out of the window, it's that the house is on fire and you can't take the heat any longer. The open window becomes more attractive by the minute, as the flames inside eat away at your flesh.

That's why the people jumped out of the twin towers. Not because they wanted to, but because they saw no other option. An open window. Fresh air. Silence, weightlessness, bliss; and most importantly, no hellish flames gnawing at your flesh. It would be paradise, if it weren't for the pavement.