They say that Depression is like this black hole that sucks at your soul, The things you love start to lose there color. Your Dreams cease to lose there luster. So Naturally when you are less then thrilled with existing in this dismal shit hole of an existence that our parents with not so much as a sideways glance thought about, the “Professionals” have a simple answer for this. To Medicate. To dull our minds so that in short, while it doesn’t really fix the Depression, it just makes us give less of a fuck about why we want to throw ourselves headfirst into the abyss.
The Truth of the Matter, at least for me is this. You stare long enough into that Abyss and you start to realize that there is in fact a light at the end of the tunnel, not some creature taunting you as religon would have you believe.
So I survived the Marines. I survived Years of living with a disability that did little to help with the concept of killing myself. But I was brought up Catholic. So no matter how much i refuse to believe i can’t bring myself to do that to my family, So I drink.
The Battle then becomes. “Will I drink tonight.” In a world where my family, who I think so much of that I cant bring myself to commit suicide , despite plotting it every hour, every minute of every waking day. They would only be worried about wether they would lose my VA money or not. I am convinced that they don’t actually give a flying fuck about me. No One does.
I can say with relative certainty that I could disapear and no one would notice provided my money didn’t go with me.
Maybe it is True what they say. stare Long enough into the Abyss and the Abyss will Stare back.