I’ve watched everything I do fail.Â Every attempt I’ve made to make this pointless, bullshit, unfair thing I have called a life liveable has backfired, leaving me in worse shape than I was before I started.
As it currently stands, I freak out 10 times a day, and I spend hours every day lamenting and bemoaning my position.
Blaming me for this is like throwing gas on the house, throwing a match on it, then saying that the house was faulty.
This happens *every* time; not just once or twice, but *every* time.Â I’ll admit that I’m less-than-perfect, and I’ve made mistakes, but I can’t, for the life of me, see what I’ve done or what I’m doing that’s so bad that it precludes any chance of anything ever working.
This makes me believe that someone up there doesn’t like me.Â God, Itself, has some sick, unfair problem with me.Â It’s in control, not me, and whatever it says is going to happen is what’s going to happen.Â Not a thing in the world that I can do about it.Â I can try, reach, push, make the effort all I want, but when all is said and done, Its decision is what’s going to matter.
I’ve been begging and pleading and praying that this shit will stop — that good things will start happening, instead of only bad things.Â My pleas are always ignored.Â God doesn’t want me to be okay, and that’s just how it is.Â It’s not going to change.Â Now get back in the corner and stay there!
How is hospitalization going to change that?Â How is talking about it going to change that?Â How is taking pills going to change that?