The Ever Consuming and often overwhelming Nothingness.

For as long as I can remember, my days have been filled with nothingness.

I have no hopes

I have no dreams

I have no aspirations

I only function at work so that no one can call me lazy and useless.

When I was young, I fully expected to be dead before I left my father’s house.

When I survived that, I still fully expected to be dead before I was 20.

When I made it to 20, I expected to be dead at any moment.

And this isn’t being melodramatic.

The psychologist hired by the Canadian Forces to evaluate my family knew that I felt this way.

My father knew that I felt this way.

Canadian Armed Forces officer Captain Terry Totzke knew I felt this way.

But these feelings never received any treatment.

In fact, as far as my father was concerned, my despair, my depression, my anxiety, my desire to die were all just “stunts” to get attention.

It’s apparent that Captain Totzke didn’t give a flying fuck.

It was always me, on my own, left to my own devices, trying to figure out how to make it from one day to the next.

It’s forty years later and people have the audacity to tell me that what I went through was obviously no big deal and that I should simply stop whining about it.

Have you found god?

Have you talked to jesus?

Get a pet!

Start a hobby!

You’re just being an asshole of you don’t try!

You have nobody to blame but yourself!

If you really want to kill yourself, you would have done it by now!

You’re just doing this for attention!

For the last few years I’ve been involved with the planning for the new hospital on False Creek. I had to sign the confidentiality undertaking, I had to pass a conflict of interest check, and I had to be approved by the bidders and their contractors / vendors.

I’ve had input on the selection of the equipment and the design of the mechanical departments.

Because of my choices, physical plant will have one dedicated freight elevator that goes from the workshop levels on P1 to the power plant on the 5th floor to the roof level at the cooling towers.

Physical plant will have its own dedicate IP network to serve all of the plant equipment and all of the HVAC equipment. I got a lot of pushback from other members of the planning committee. But I stood my ground and my agruement eventualy won out that if we used the same network as the rest of the hospital, we’d have to go through IMIT and submit work requests for IMIT to whitelist new MAC addresses every time we had to replace a control board for a piece of HVAC equipment. IMIT tickets can take up to 7 working days.

So yeah, we get our own network.

The funny thing is, I have no plans on going to the new hospital.

As I’ve said before, I have no plans for anything.

I honestly don’t have any plans further into the future than tomorrow.

I just have nothingness.

I have unstoppable memories from 1978 onwards.

I have a never ending desire to die.

Due to governmental dithering I’ve been sentenced to at least one more year.

Will one more year possibly get me to change my mind?

No.

This feeling of nothingness, of emptiness, of meaninglessness, just continues.

It sucks the life out of life.

It consumes all and destroys all.

I sleep a lot.

I get home from work, I sleep.

Most weekends I sleep well into the afternoon.

My recent trip, I spent more time sleeping in the hotel room than anything else.

But, I’ve always been this way.

Getting out of bed in the morning is so fucking hard to do when you don’t want to be here.

I’m usually in bed at a decent hour, maybe between 21:00 and 22:00.

Without alarms, I’d sleep until about 12:00 the next day.

With alarms, it takes so much fucking effort to get out of bed in the morning.

I hate the fucking morning, it means I’m still fucking alive.

Lunchtime I sleep.

Afterwork, I get home and sleep for a couple of hours.

There were times in my teens and my twenties and my thirties where I could sleep for days on end.

Not just not get out of bed.

I mean sleep – solid – for days.

I don’t cry much any more.

I think the tears dried up a long time ago.

But I would often cry when I was alone.

The last good cry I had was back around 2009.

But the CFB Namao / CFNIS fiasco literally killed me.

Learning the truth about the CFB Namao matter literally killed me on the inside.

My insides are dead, they have been for a while.

I’m just waiting for my corpse to realize that it’d dead.

And after what I suffered through in my early years combined with what I learnt from 2011 onwards, there is only nothing.

And that’s the way it will always be, nothing.

Each and every day going forward will be another day of nothing.

No hopes.

No dreams.

No desires.

Just nothing.