Fading out, Primitive Radio Gods

I haven’t been on the site in a long time mostly because I was feeling much better, but lately I can really feel myself coming back down, hard. I listened to an old 90’s song that I used for the title of this post and with every verse I just felt myself wanting to die a little bit more. I feel like everything I do ends up wrong in the end. I know my depression makes me feel useless and that everything is my fault but it’s getting harder to convince myself that I’m wrong.

My nightmares are coming back. I keep seeing Lcpl Allison’s bloody stump where his right leg used to be. I see the dead Afghani kid still spasming, still trying to breathe while his brain is splattered on the hot sand. Worst of all I see his father, bent over and crying, waiving us away while the trucks drive off. I can smell the blood on my gloves as I smoke a cigarette and watch them fade into the horizon. I wake up more tired and usually in sweat. I’m sore all day and I feel faded, like I blended with the furniture. I’m there, but I’m never really there.

I don’t know if I’ll plan my exit soon or not. I don’t necessarily want to, but I’m tired of being here too.