So Fucking Done

Hey Sams, whatever ghoul is sucking the life out of you, it has us both by the throat. Funny I came here to post something similar. Like you, I should’ve died in a nasty wreck but came out without a scratch. You’d think people like that would suddenly embrace life and drop to our knees with appreciation for our guardian angels, but the opposite happened. Sometimes it just makes you realize that you’re a mistake. And every day reasserts that thought.

If I believed in demons & angels, I’d say there are opportunistic spirits in the air, waiting centuries for a physical body, and when they see a chance to take hold of one near death, they do. It really does feel like a possession sometimes. But really, even that idea is just a dramatic fantasy to give my life more value than it has.

It’s ok to be tired. That’s the one thought that helps me and maybe it’ll help you too. It’s ok to screw up. To feel worthless. Sometimes it’s therapeutic to stare at the ceiling for hours and revel in your failure. So maybe if you stop beating yourself up, you can wake up tomorrow, or in a week or whenever, and try again. That’s what I’m hoping for at least.