No Rest For The Wicked

Last night was really rough. It’s clear that I need to make some sort of a change in my life but I don’t know what. My great-aunt has simple suggestions, like getting out of the basement and doing stuff upstairs. I appreciate what she is saying, I’m sure sunlight would benefit me. However, I’m not quite sure what to be doing upstairs.

What triggered an episode last night was my ranking going from Silver to Bronze in a video game. It’s just another example of the fact that I’m not talented at anything I do. I enjoy video games, but that does not mean I am any good at them. I enjoy creating things digitally, but I don’t have a knack for it. It’s like everything I do produces mundane results. I’m just so tired of the struggle.

People always say, “Fake it until you make it” and often times that means happiness or normalcy. I’m getting tired of pretending to be happy. Tired of pretending to be alright. I just wish that I could be happy for once. I remember brief glimpses of happiness in sobriety, that is before the addictions. I don’t think I’ve ever had a neurologically typical frame of mind. As far back as I can remember, I’ve been depressed. Not just sad, but hopeless. I’ve had a nagging inkling and wish that I could die. That I would die. Like, last night. I wished that so strongly.

I’m not going to act on it. I’ve tried that a handful of times in the past to no avail. When you’ve attempted suicide 4-5 times and even a couple of times the doctors said “You shouldn’t be alive,” but here I am, one tends to finally give up and admit defeat. That’s just another thing that goes to show how I can follow through on things and yet they don’t turn out successful.

I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I’m fed up. I want out. Seriously, the only reason I’m still here is Bubba. He’s temporary. He’s already at the midway point of a cat’s life and even then, it’s getting hard to justify continuing on through the constant daily struggle using a cat as justification.

I don’t know, I thought this blog post would be cathartic. It isn’t. It’s not helping at all.