by the wayside.
And I can’t get up.
I fantasize about taking the one person I hate the most with me.
Stop telling yourself that you are nothing. Stop telling yourself that you are ugly. Stop doubting everything you do. Stop telling yourself that nobody likes you. Stop telling yourself that you don’t deserve to be happy. Stop laying around and wasting time. Stop hating yourself.
I have a recurring dream. Where the dream takes place varies, but it is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
I am running. Running away or towards something. Through buildings, up and down stairs and hallways. Then outside. Through bad neighborhoods and my own familiar streets. I’m never tired. I just keep on running.
A bear makes its way into suburbia. Big news story. Schools on lockdown. Officials trying to track it down. They claim to want to relocate the bear. Likely they will end up killing her.
I feel like that bear. In the wrong place. Wrong everything. Being chased by a faceless demon. If only I could be relocated. My demon wants me dead.
Excuse me. Is your name Larry?
I see you at the bar sometimes. You play Keno, right? Do you ever hit big? Yeah? No, I don’t know how to play.
Anyway, the reason I’m asking is because I saw someone who looked like you on the bridge the other night when I was driving home. Looked like you were going to jump. No? Not you? Sure had me fooled. You drive a white Dodge pickup with a flag in the back window, right? I knew it was you. What made you change your mind?
I feel worthless because I’m old and too anxious to get anything done. I’m afraid that my life will be over before I can recover. I sometimes feel like I should end it so I can stop worrying about it.
The weather here is chilly and wet. A good day to retreat into depression. But I don’t want to be sucked into my self loathing. I need to find a way to pull myself out. Help!
I am so useless.
I feel paralyzed. I’m exhausted and cannot accomplish a thing. The only thing that makes me want to do something is alcohol. I feel so overwhelmed by even the most mundane task. I’m useless. I don’t feel suicidal but depression is ruining my life.
My depression is like a heavy sack full of nothingness that I must lug around with me all the time. I am entangled in its strings and I can’t get it off. I feel so small under the weight of it. I just want to be free.
Thank you for the laughs yesterday. It helped me realize that I’m not all alone and invisible. It really means a lot to me!
Today I’m going to laugh at myself. Laugh at my looks. At my messy house. At the piled up clothes. Chipping paint. Later I’m going to drink a few beers. And laugh. I take myself too seriously at times. Then I freeze up and can’t get anything done. I’m hoping if I lighten up it will help. Anyone have a joke to share?
What happens when you die?
I believe nothing happens. You’re simply dead. Spirituality is for the living. It was created by people for people to make you act a certain way in order to achieve life after death. It’s a bunch of bullshit.
I feel so alone. My house is empty. My heart longs for just one friend. Someone to talk to. I’m dying for a friend. Does anyone understand? I can’t take it anymore!
I stopped caring. I stopped caring about myself. I stopped caring about others. It’s the last step. Now I can go.
Goodbye.
Living with mental illness is so hard. I’ve been depressed since I was a kid. Nothing seems to work. Anxiety has taken over my life. I’m paralyzed by it. I can’t seem to accomplish anything. I am scarred by years of self harm. Part of me wants out. But I can’t help feeling that there is something good out there. Is there any hope? Can anyone relate?
Why am I afraid to die? The end is probably beautiful. Even more so if you embrace it. But still, I fear the unknown and I choose to be miserable.
I’m sitting here wondering when the Time will come. It looks like tonight is good. Full moon. I’m alone at the Atlantic Ocean. Listening to music. Last meal done. Still have dessert. And music, a weapon and an outgoing tide.
So I ask:
Any suggestions for a last album?
I don’t know how to feel. I cut myself for the first time in a year and a half. Just a few slices with a knife, but a barrier has been broken. I want to be better. Or dead. I’m tired of this bullshit.
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