I don't even know where to begin. Part of me believes, if I could turn back the hands of time, everything would be ok again. If I could magically fall asleep, and wake up, in a time that pre-dates my life becoming a complete shit-show... a time when I at least thought I was happy, an emotion that is so foreign and distant to me these days, all it is to me is a meaningless 5 letter word... go back to a time when I was healthier, a time when if I suspected I had an ailment of sorts, I would care to get seen, I would care to get well again... go back to a time when I cared a bit more about the relationships I maintained with friends and family, and made a bit more of an effort to communicate with them.
The world I live in is so dark and dreary, the evil-looking clouds that move in prior to a bad storm. I have absolutely no motivation whatsoever to do anything, but I find myself doing things constantly... now this is not out of joy, but more so trying to stay busy... this usually entails performing deliveries on my bike within the capital city of the state I reside in. I am hesitant to think this actually takes my mind off of shit, as it is stressful as fuck a lot of the time, it probably makes me worse. I feel I do it mostly to get the fuck out of my single bedroom apartment, that I live in alone, where I am constantly reminded of how fucking lonely I am. So perhaps I coast through the pothole-ridden streets of the city I work in, surrounded by hundreds of strangers, to create the illusion I am not so fucking lonely... but the catch is, I don't want to be fucking bothered by a single one of them, I want to be left the hell alone, to wallow in my day to day misery, hoping I don't negatively affect anyone, or cause a damper to their mood.
I am not grateful for this life I live anymore. I want to go to sleep and stay asleep forever, and finally find peace... drift off to a world where I can re-familiarize myself with what the feeling of happy feels like... wake up and actually be happy to be awake... no one should have to start their day as miserable as they were when they struggled to fall asleep the night prior. I wish I could donate my healthy organs to someone in need, a child who is terminally ill, or something similar...
I am diagnosed with an incurable illness, that has single-handedly destroyed me mentally... I am against antidepressants as I know the exact reason I am so fucking depressed, and also know antidepressants might help conceal or numb the way I feel, they will not make me healthy again... it is with similar reasoning, I turn away from talking with a mental health workers, and group therapy and shit... there is no light at the end of the tunnel for me, the light burnt out a long time ago... as fucked as I am mentally, I wish what I had was terminal, so at least eventually everything would come to an end, I would finally have something to look forward to... and whereas I lost my dad to terminal leukemia, I have nothing against anyone suffering from a terminal illness, I wish them all well... I would trade places with someone in that circumstance if it meant they would become healthy again... no one should have to go through life feeling like this, day after day after day... everything is mundane, nothing means anything to me anymore... I wouldn't wish this shit on my worst enemy...
and I am far too big of a pussy to put an end to it all voluntarily... I told my therapist, who I had only kept two appointments with, prior to never going again, that "perhaps this is why I perform the type of work I do... if I end up underneath the tires of some truck, left lifeless, it is what it is"... I don't want to bring any harm to the few people in my life that care about me, nor do I want them to have to think about me any more than they would normally, but I feel like a fucking ant underneath the magnifying glass of some evil fuck on a sunny day being burnt alive...
The world I live in is so dark and dreary, the evil-looking clouds that move in prior to a bad storm. I have absolutely no motivation whatsoever to do anything, but I find myself doing things constantly... now this is not out of joy, but more so trying to stay busy... this usually entails performing deliveries on my bike within the capital city of the state I reside in. I am hesitant to think this actually takes my mind off of shit, as it is stressful as fuck a lot of the time, it probably makes me worse. I feel I do it mostly to get the fuck out of my single bedroom apartment, that I live in alone, where I am constantly reminded of how fucking lonely I am. So perhaps I coast through the pothole-ridden streets of the city I work in, surrounded by hundreds of strangers, to create the illusion I am not so fucking lonely... but the catch is, I don't want to be fucking bothered by a single one of them, I want to be left the hell alone, to wallow in my day to day misery, hoping I don't negatively affect anyone, or cause a damper to their mood.
I am not grateful for this life I live anymore. I want to go to sleep and stay asleep forever, and finally find peace... drift off to a world where I can re-familiarize myself with what the feeling of happy feels like... wake up and actually be happy to be awake... no one should have to start their day as miserable as they were when they struggled to fall asleep the night prior. I wish I could donate my healthy organs to someone in need, a child who is terminally ill, or something similar...
I am diagnosed with an incurable illness, that has single-handedly destroyed me mentally... I am against antidepressants as I know the exact reason I am so fucking depressed, and also know antidepressants might help conceal or numb the way I feel, they will not make me healthy again... it is with similar reasoning, I turn away from talking with a mental health workers, and group therapy and shit... there is no light at the end of the tunnel for me, the light burnt out a long time ago... as fucked as I am mentally, I wish what I had was terminal, so at least eventually everything would come to an end, I would finally have something to look forward to... and whereas I lost my dad to terminal leukemia, I have nothing against anyone suffering from a terminal illness, I wish them all well... I would trade places with someone in that circumstance if it meant they would become healthy again... no one should have to go through life feeling like this, day after day after day... everything is mundane, nothing means anything to me anymore... I wouldn't wish this shit on my worst enemy...
and I am far too big of a pussy to put an end to it all voluntarily... I told my therapist, who I had only kept two appointments with, prior to never going again, that "perhaps this is why I perform the type of work I do... if I end up underneath the tires of some truck, left lifeless, it is what it is"... I don't want to bring any harm to the few people in my life that care about me, nor do I want them to have to think about me any more than they would normally, but I feel like a fucking ant underneath the magnifying glass of some evil fuck on a sunny day being burnt alive...
