How did I get here…

What if I didn’t exist? Would the world be a better place? Or would it feel any less different. I ache with pain that no one seems to understand. I speak softly but people listen loudly. I do not want this for myself but it seems I cannot shake it. I cannot shake the demons off. I am lost and in search of an imaginary peace. What people don’t realize is that I am not as strong as I seem. I used to be, at least I used to portray it better. I am now weak, the weak never prosper. I sought help from a man named Brumfield.  He tried. My friends didn’t, but can I blame them. My family is clueless. I am alone, alone is the only thing I know. As I contemplate the meaning of my existence I think to myself, how did it get this bad? How did it never get better. As I type the pain is ever present and weighing down the keys, my breathing heavies to match the weight of my mind. My thoughts are cruel and I cannot contain them any longer. I thought this was normal. Everything hurts, everything. I try to look to the future and assure myself a better day will come but how many times can you lie to yourself. The day I dream of is out of reach, I need relief. I need to relief myself of the shackles of Earth. I have never called on Him but if he is out there I pray I am rescued. Is it that I am weighed down by my sins and caught under resentment. He is listening. What happened, how did I get to this point. I never understood this until I was in it. You cannot escape, you’re trapped.