Well I’ve had a pretty good year. I mean I lost a best friend and my home and a bunch of other shit but it’s been a pretty good year. But here I am again, down in this deep dark hole, broke, alone, with no one but the walls to cry to. I fucking hate this time of year, too many bad memories. People always die this time of year, people I love and care about. I’m still waiting for the news to break that someone else I love is gone and I’ll never see them again. I wish I had even a few dollars to my name, then at least I could go get a bottle of tequila and stop thinking about this, if only for a few hours.
I don’t want to live, I’ve never wanted to be alive, and yet at the same time it’s all I’ve ever wanted. A normal life, free from the prison of mental illness. I’ve always been a fucked up kid, well, now I’m a fucked up adult, and not in the fun way either. I just don’t want to be here anymore. How can we be expected to keep on going with so much pain inside us? I don’t know, maybe one day I’ll find the answer. That’s all that keeps me going most nights, the slim hope that there is an answer, that what I’ve been searching for and craving my whole life actually exists in this world and that maybe one day, if only for an instant, I can find it, hold it, experience it, feel it, possess it.
Sometimes I feel as though I’ve had my good times, my loves, my losses, my triumphs and failures, and I’m just done. As time goes on more and more is lost, both by those outside and me inside. I don’t know what to do anymore, but I’ll stick it out for another night. I’ve come this far, maybe tomorrow’s the day I’ll find what I’m looking for. Maybe I never will, but as long as there’s a chance, even the slightest minutiae of hope, something I have little of, then I’ll stick it out. Last thing I want is to end up in a wristcutters-esque scenario where everything’s the same but a little bit worse. Anyways, I’m going to go cry myself to sleep for the third night in a row, wishing you all happy holidays and few losses, good night.
2 comments
Thanks for sharing this. It made me remember a conversation with a family member in which i said that i constantly feel like i’m living on borrowed time, as in my time is already over and now i’m just sort of hanging on for no reason at all, other than their wishes to keep me with them. It’s almost surreal when you’re able to look back and say that yeah, you had your share of experiences so maybe that was it, but yeah, who is to say that’s the case? maybe that extra day of hanging will make a difference, eventually. Hopefully the day when you don’t cry yourself to sleep and don’t have to experience more loses will come too, at least i hope so.
January seems to be a big death month in my family….and I hear my uncle isn’t doing well…it can be a really depressing time of year in so many ways.