I’m disgusted with the idea that i might want your attention, but it’s your attention that helps and your help is disgusting because i’m disgusting for needing help. Help!
I feel sick with it. Sometimes it’s a big empty whole, sometimes the whole fills with a nausiating meloncholy substance formed of some vile nostalgia. My eyes see only ugliness. A waste land. And my body crawls across it’s filth. Motivated by someone else’s idea of hope. To reach what? perhaps another minute, or better yet a minute left behind. Another moment of agony I’ve put behind me. There are moments of another nature however. I’d say the suffering isn’t worth them, but what the hell. Water is so much better when your thirsty.
I want to be loved,
I want to be a good dad
I want to be strong
I want to be creative
I want to be healthy
I want to be happy
I want to be normal
“sorry son. Here’s a beer while you watch other people with those things through this window. enjoy yourself”
Sometimes I’m so tired. I can’t focus my eyes. I barely sleep. My days are a chain of endless blurs. I don’t remember much. I smoke because it makes me feel tough like a soldier fighting a war. Every moment is a battle. It is sometimes perforated by bits of light or a funny moment. I cling to it as it fades and slips through my fingers like the vapor of something once solid.
Hi
I’m sharing my story, because it seems to make me feel better, which I’d guess is point of this site.
I’ve always had sensitivity, anxiety, and depression issues, (undiagnosed), but often medicated with once drugs and nowadays alcohol as a have a kid which has straightened me out some. I’ve managed to keep a good job, but have generally isolated myself. I’ve had thoughts of suicide in the past, but i’ve generally managed to form some kind of stability in work, sleep overs with my kid and the occassional binge drinking episode. A lonely existance, yet stable for me and also held together with a little […]