I wish things were different.

“From where you’re kneeling, this must seem like an 18 karat run of bad luck. Truth is, the game was rigged from the start.”

That quote sums up my life perfectly.

To understand why I’m doing this, I’ll need to explain a lot. Thank you if you read it all.

2012 I got out of an Abusive relationship. She beat the shit out of me over nothing. Jealous, possessive, constantly checking my phone. If I was a minute late getting home, I was cheating.

I moved into a house I’d been buying for Us. Not being able to afford the mortgage on my own, my mother offered to rent the first floor from me. She works on the road 4-5 days a week so this seemed like a good arrangement to me.

I was…ok. Numb. I’d stayed with the abuser for..punishment I suppose. Felt like I deserved it. I grew up to an abusive mother and an absent father. So it wasn’t worse than I’d grown up with. And, it felt like penance. From..17-22 I was “that” guy. Emotionally manipulative, rude, cruel. I was bad. My low point was when the girl I was engaged to miscarried. Right after. I grew distant. Angry. We both took it hard. I took it harder. I started drinking.
She came to see me and I flew off the handle. Hucked her keys at her. Told her I didn’t care if I ever saw her again.
She fought to keep me together. A lot harder than she should have. I was stubborn and determined to drown myself in a bottle. She ended up moving to texas. 4 months later, she was expecting. Carried to term and gave it up for adoption.
I’ve always blamed myself. Somehow, felt like maybe if I’d have been a better person, she wouldn’t have lost it. Stupid. I know. I knew from the beginning that my grandfather was an abusive alcoholic. I realized that the man I swore I’d never emulate was exactly who I’d become. I swore I’d never, ever let myself be that way again. So I just…shut down those parts of myself. I was a new man. I spent two years alone, focusing on myself. That’s when I met “Angry”. And I let it happen to me like a lamb lead by the nose.

3 months after I split up with Angry, I met someone amazing. We had everything in common. For the first time, I felt like an equal. We fell head over heels. I was happy.
Things were fine. She was planning to move in with me. We’d decided to get married. Start a family in 4 years. Move down south to where she could go to a preferred school. Problem was, she was from the UK. Went back to see family. I was ok with it. We had no secrets. At all. I told her everything. She did the same. I trusted her.
Her brother and I didn’t get along. He and I had gotten into it verbally a few times. He was abusive toward her and I wouldn’t have it. But as it goes, blood is blood. And we started having petty fights.
And then, one morning no good morning text. I text her…nothing. a few hours later i get a text. I can tell from it she’s upset. She says…she can’t do it. She’s too young. 22, you know? Doesn’t know what she wants. Maybe she only loves me as a friend. I didn’t get it. After everything? I couldn’t understand.

I…died. inside. It killed me. I tried to get her back. Did everything. And when it became clear she was gone? My friend’s and I staged my death. I even knocked out a DC. I just…it hurt so bad I wanted her to feel a portion of how bad I was hurting. It was petty. Stupid. I know. To this day she still thinks I’m gone.

I focused on other things. Work mainly. Just…tried to not think about it. But it was like…everything started to fall apart now that she was gone.

Almost exactly a month to the day after she left, I got bitten by a dog. A whole bunch of puncture wounds in my leg. It was bad. I cleaned it and waited a week to go to the hospital. Ended up stuck there for 4 days because it got necrotic. It took until middle of january to heal because I worked so much and spent so much of my days standing. I got ordered to go against medical advice by my job. They wanted me to ignore doctors orders completely, and if I didn’t it was my ass.

I’d lost my appetite. Stopped eating altogether. I drank monster, Gatorade and water. I ate when forced. From the months of September to November, I probably had 3 or 4 meals. Food made me sick. Smelling it, seeing it, tasting it. All the same. I lost about 20lbs. I still don’t really have an appetite. In November almost two months to the day she left, I lost two of my teeth because of malnutrition. That spurred me to eat more, as sick as it makes me.

Despite everything I threw myself into my work as much as possible. Did every damn thing I could. I kept my personal life home and work was my one escape. I became even more introverted, but I was functional.

Like clockwork, between the 23rd-28th every month something horrible happens. And in between shit is bad too. I’ve lost two cats. With no signs of trauma. Just came home from work and found them dead.

December it was bad, a cousin died. And I found out through facebook. She got into a car accident and died with her highschool sweetheart. The asshole who hit them had a stolen fucking car. No license. No insurance.

January was car trouble, car died for no reason at 80 miles an hour on highway of 4 lanes, i was on the innermost. I had to navigate through traffic with no engine. Happened again not long after that. Turns out there was a recall on it.

February I got fired for bullshit reasons. If it were things I’d actually been at fault for, I’d have been fine. But it was bull. I’d been complaining about safety issues. They had to replace a furnace because of a C02 leak, and I was pushing about other hazards. Osha later hit em for 15k. And it was 6 months to the day. Same day, I fell down a flight of stairs at work which I’m still injured from. 20-30% mobility in my right arm, constant pain. Back hurts if I walk. And…they gave me steroids and muscle relaxers. Both of which fuck with your mood. I got angry. And suicidal. So I stopped taking them. But for the weeks I was on em, it fucked with my head and now that the thoughts were in there they’re stuck.

March, I deteriorated bad. I’d lost the things that had kept me going. Pills had caused me to have violent mood swings, and suicide became almost an obsession. I’ve cut damn near everyone out of my life. Mostly because of how angry I am. As you can imagine, money troubles piled up and march without fail ended with more of them. Without going into details, it was one of the toughest so far.

April…I got hospitalized for being suicidal. Lied my way out. Because, frankly, everything wrong is situational. And strange. They’d medicate me and numb me down. Yippie. My problems would still be there, but now I’d be fucked up and trying to cope instead.
One of the doctors suspected I’d had a breakdown. Possibly gone Manic bipolar, or schizophrenic. That I’d snapped. I won’t lie, it’s occured to me too.
I can barely stand human contact. I can honestly only go out in public drunk. I can’t function in public otherwise. And even then I barely Interact with people. I’ve avoided all friends for 6 months now.

End of April again, within 2 days, as can be guessed bad shit went down. Took my dogs for a walk with my mom. One dog slipped collar and ran off the path. Into a quarry. Got onto ice, which broke and I was forced to stand there and watch. Mom freaked and let the other one go who went out and fell in as well.
I went in fully clothed in icy water over my head. Had to break ice to get to them, but I got em out. Bad shoulder and all. But when I went under, I felt nothing. When I was doing it..the same. Nothing. When I got a few deep swallows of icy water, I honestly considered just…staying. letting it happen. I wanted it.

I’m broke. My workmans comp claim was bantered back and forth for so long I gave up. I still can’t get seen for my shoulder because Government insurance doesn’t wanna pay as its a work injury.

Two months ago, the person I was buying the house from called the cops because i wouldn’t let him into the house. The cops went into my house while I was out and took my dogs. No warning. No warrant. Just…bam. I had my advocate call but they wouldn’t tell her anything. So I lost them too.

I couldn’t face the place after that. I ran. Left behind everything. Been crashing on couches. A few times I just slept on beaches because it was pretty. I’m mostly homeless now. My cars gonna get repo’d soon.

My money is almost out. I have damn near nothing to my name. Stress…is making me hear and see things. There’s an Air raid siren that keeps going off. And I keep hearing some voice talking to me. Female. Went to 3 shrinks and was told “Keep positive!” “Have you tried praying?” And “it can’t really be THAT bad.” “it’s from stress! You just need to relax!” Ha.

I give up. I have nothing left to fight for.
I have nothing left.
I’m glad I’ve cut away my friends. I have no real family left. My passing won’t hurt anyone. I just…I can’t go on anymore. Everything that mattered to me is gone. I’m never going to be able to come back from this. So I’d rather…go out on my own terms.