Protected: Laughter
I keep smiling. Everything is looking up and I still feel hopeless depressed. I want to scream at everyone. I want them all to go away and never come back. Useless, hopeless, sad, angry, anxious, and hyper-sexual can all be used to describe how I feel as of late. I am very unhappy, and I want so desperately for everything to change. I’m tired of feeling like I have to be the “steady” one. I am not a rock, I’m more like clay, or super fine, wet sand. I’m easily molded, and just as easily broken.Without the proper amount of fire, I just fall apart on my own. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to make people think everything is OK. Just smile. When they ask I tell them, “I’m always good. Thanks for asking.” It’s a lie. A huge fucking lie. I lay in bed, dreading moving. Moving confirms that I’m alive, and being alive means living with myself, the things I’ve done, and the illness that has invaded my every waking moment. I don’t want your fucking pity – I want to be fixed. I want to know that in 10 years my kids will still have a stable parent to watch their school plays and be the irritating parent that volunteers as a chaperone during prom. I want my self-esteem back, so that I can get a lover that doesn’t just tolerate me. I want my intelligence back. It was robbed from me. I swear, one day I was smart, and the next day it was gone. I can’t even fully read latin anymore. I spend so much of my time making mental notes about every little thing that’s going on: Contrasting and comparing the minuscule details and always, ALWAYS trying to find that fault in my reality that lets me know it’s not real. I’m exhausted. I don’t feel like living life this way is living at all. I’ve got electronic devices that tell me my appointments, my schedule, my kid’s schedule, medication and meal times, nap times, designated sleep times. Fuck – If my phone told me to defecate at a specific time, I’d probably go sit on the toilet and wait until it happened. I feel like an invalid. But I can smile, and when my phone tells me to shower and get dressed, I do it. That’s all that matters to the doctors. I can follow basic directions, and therefore I should be able to function. I feel utterly alone. My kids are smart, but they are not adults. My friends are all busy – they have jobs. Gods: I wish I could get a job. But honestly, who’s going to hire someone that hallucinates customers, or accepts fake money, or thinks he’s done things that he hasn’t? And now this crap with the breathing. I can’t even sleep in the same bed as my girlfriend because I’m wheezing and coughing and hacking all night long. As if it’s not bad enough that she can’t stand me 90% of the time. Every day I sit in anticipation for her to call everything quits. She has no reason to stay. There’s no financial gain, my kids are bad for her mental stability, and my anxiety is making her miserable. I have to beg for sex. I have NEVER – EVER had to beg for sex. I can’t please her physically, emotionally, or otherwise. I cannot satisfy her in any manner. I’m not the person that I was when she met me, and this is not the arrangement that we had worked out. Despite everything finally moving forward, I feel floundered in mud. I don’t want to live any more. I’ve lost my hunger for life. I look at my bucketlist, and all I can do is think of the insurmountable obstacles that are against me doing any of them. I watch my kids and cringe every time I think of things that I could do wrong. I’m so afraid to be alone with them sometimes. I look at Kayla and wonder why she’s even here at all. Of course, she is always there to reassure me: I’m here because I’ve no where else to go. My confidence is shot. I’d look for reassurance elsewhere, but there’s none. I advertise for sex: I don’t really want sex anymore, but maybe a friend would be nice. I can’t even go see my friends by myself because my fear of this frail relationship collapsing. I just want a hug every now and then. Maybe someone to tell me it will be OK, because I sure as hell haven’t heard that in a long time. I don’t even answer my phone the majority of the time because I don’t want to lie to people anymore, and they don’t want to hear the ugly, horrid truth. No, I’m not planning suicide, but if a happy medium grants me a chance to join the spirit world, I’m not going to fight to stay here. Everyone would be better off without me here. There is not a single soul that is benefited by me remaining alive, and I have to go to sleep with that every night.I am nothing more than a drain on the earth, the economy, my friends, my family, and most of all, my lover. You try convincing the people that only exist in your mind that you are worth a damn. No matter how it works out, you’re always the loser. I hate me.Keep smiling…