That sums it up. I deserved to live a good life without so much pain. But with time I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter what you deserve you get whatever you’re given. I’ve had so much pain in my life, been in the darkest holes. Each time I had to pull myself out because no one could help me but me. I had the will to do it then but now as I am older I feel what’s the point I only end up back again to a darker and deeper hole. And so I have chosen to stay this time and I will wait until I’m no longer needed to care for my sick relative and then I need to die. Every time I confide in someone, I trust them to open up about my pain in the hopes that they are able to understand me. And be understand I do not mean they know exactly what I think and feel I’m sick of people thinking that way and using it as justification to wash their hands. I share information about my feelings and about my life so that someone can “understand” meaning they take that information and interpret the meaning. You don’t have to go through bad shit to know that it’s bad and most likely feels awful is my point. The disregard it and resent me for things I can not control. Love does not exist for me no more than happiness. I see no point anymore, I would love nothing more than to move forward to have a chance. But I am burned out and I can’t keep doing this anymore. I am glad I never married, that I never had children, that I am not close to anyone. This makes the impact of my death less important and less painful. I accept that I am a failure, I embrace it now.