**DISCLOSURE: POST WRITTEN DURING EXTREME DEPRESSIVE EPISODE. READER DISCRETION ADVISED.***
As I watch the marque scrolling with delays for possible winter weather I'm expected to be on the road at 4am heading north straight into colder temperatures. But that's life right? You do what you have to do and it's not always easy.... blah, blah, blah.. yah, yah. Tell me something I already don't know.
I understand this, life's not meant to be easy, in fact nothing is. But being a puppet commanded by the strings of mental delusion makes it that much harder.
I had hoped and prayed for my hectic schedule to fall through and of course it seemed to be too good to be true that it did. Now what was suppose to be will be but at a pace that's ramped on steroids.
I just can't do this. I'm just not capable of sleep deprived endless work days toppled with somnolent driving. This just serves as a reminder of all that I've attempted and all that I've failed.
I'm just not capable of life, my life or any life at all. I long nothing more than to close my eyes peacefully knowing they will never open again. Seems rather foolish but trade shoes with me for a day then give me your thoughts.
I feel as if I'm maimed at even being able to speak of this. I try to explain my days and the demands only to have a "uh huh," "oh I'm sorry," or "I know the feeling." NO YOU DON'T. A simple "uh huh" does not soothe a soul at war it only reminds it of it's isolation.
No one wants to talk to a pessimist, to the manic voice that lashes out or the scrambled words between fallen tears. No one wants to be around someone like me and I don't blame them. Most of the time I'm intolerant of myself.
There's no one to talk to, there's no one to listen, there's no one to understand.
What do I do? Walk into a hospital with arms raised shouting "I give up! somebody save me!"
It doesn't work that way. Spend a short stent in a place that's suppose to be healing only come out to the hell you walked in from. 2 weeks or several days does not cure a lifetime of sickness. It only grazes the surface with a high price tag. How can someone have the desire to get help knowing that very help will lead to a lifetime of debt? Sure you can't put a price on life but you can't stamp a price on life saving treatment, yet they do and they always will. Fucking money grubbers.
I haven't spoken to anyone all day and though the voice inside me screams nothing comes out. I know it would fall on deaf ears or those who have grown tired of my "antics."
I'm sorry my inabilities annouy and burden you, it's OK, they are only killing me. No big deal right?
I'm tired of being crazy, driving everyone crazy and driving myself insane. I'm just tired. I don't want to do this anymore yet the stigma of selfishness is just as painful as the pain it's self. It's a loose loose situation. Either way the cookie crumbles it will cause pain.
Silence. I asked for it and now my manic, delusional self doesn't want it. I can't ever make up my mind. I can't really do much of anything without causing disorder. Disfunction.
I have nothing more to say today, as I speak this into space. I have nothing to say because there's no one that wants to listen and if they do getting dulled "uh huh" just pours flames on the internal fires of separation.
As I watch the marque scrolling with delays for possible winter weather I'm expected to be on the road at 4am heading north straight into colder temperatures. But that's life right? You do what you have to do and it's not always easy.... blah, blah, blah.. yah, yah. Tell me something I already don't know.
I understand this, life's not meant to be easy, in fact nothing is. But being a puppet commanded by the strings of mental delusion makes it that much harder.
I had hoped and prayed for my hectic schedule to fall through and of course it seemed to be too good to be true that it did. Now what was suppose to be will be but at a pace that's ramped on steroids.
I just can't do this. I'm just not capable of sleep deprived endless work days toppled with somnolent driving. This just serves as a reminder of all that I've attempted and all that I've failed.
I'm just not capable of life, my life or any life at all. I long nothing more than to close my eyes peacefully knowing they will never open again. Seems rather foolish but trade shoes with me for a day then give me your thoughts.
I feel as if I'm maimed at even being able to speak of this. I try to explain my days and the demands only to have a "uh huh," "oh I'm sorry," or "I know the feeling." NO YOU DON'T. A simple "uh huh" does not soothe a soul at war it only reminds it of it's isolation.
No one wants to talk to a pessimist, to the manic voice that lashes out or the scrambled words between fallen tears. No one wants to be around someone like me and I don't blame them. Most of the time I'm intolerant of myself.
There's no one to talk to, there's no one to listen, there's no one to understand.
What do I do? Walk into a hospital with arms raised shouting "I give up! somebody save me!"
It doesn't work that way. Spend a short stent in a place that's suppose to be healing only come out to the hell you walked in from. 2 weeks or several days does not cure a lifetime of sickness. It only grazes the surface with a high price tag. How can someone have the desire to get help knowing that very help will lead to a lifetime of debt? Sure you can't put a price on life but you can't stamp a price on life saving treatment, yet they do and they always will. Fucking money grubbers.
I haven't spoken to anyone all day and though the voice inside me screams nothing comes out. I know it would fall on deaf ears or those who have grown tired of my "antics."
I'm sorry my inabilities annouy and burden you, it's OK, they are only killing me. No big deal right?
I'm tired of being crazy, driving everyone crazy and driving myself insane. I'm just tired. I don't want to do this anymore yet the stigma of selfishness is just as painful as the pain it's self. It's a loose loose situation. Either way the cookie crumbles it will cause pain.
Silence. I asked for it and now my manic, delusional self doesn't want it. I can't ever make up my mind. I can't really do much of anything without causing disorder. Disfunction.
I have nothing more to say today, as I speak this into space. I have nothing to say because there's no one that wants to listen and if they do getting dulled "uh huh" just pours flames on the internal fires of separation.
