My only ability to prevent it from doing something terrible, is to inflict pain on myself. Not physical, no..I haven't the taste for that. It plays with my decisions. With my emotions, with my very life.
I sabotage myself, continuously - the endgame being suicide. When I cannot bear it any longer, a quick jump, stab, or long sleep will offer to peaceful salvation, only physically harming myself, while leaving emotional scars on those that do care (which at this point, is a short list and completely oblivious people)
Unhappy, unemployed, hopeless. These are the words I see etched across my pathetic and pitiful face when I look in the mirror. Disgusted, ashamed, dishonored. These words I hear in my solitude. The self help books I've bought over and over again, and never finished would probably offer some explanation on these moods, not that I would listen to them.
I feel like I've been on this ride too long, and I need to get off. Depression, suicide, sorrow, solitude, the need to push everyone and everything that wants to help away. I can't stand the stares, pity in their eyes, the pity in their voice. The uninformed optimism in their hapless advice.
My life has been ending 1 minute at a time, and unlike my friends and family, I have not made the best of it - and I'm not even having a good time. Days like these I envy the homeless drug addicts just a few streets from here. Living yours days out in complete disorientation, knowing that you're at rock bottom, and can go no lower...must be freeing.
There's something truly comforting in having no hope. You start to look at those people who are successful as a different entity altogether. They're the pure, righteous, noble and honorable people. They have no need to consort with the likes of me. And in some small way, I'm doing all those people a favor, by removing myself from their responsibility. They no longer have to uphold their standard of assisting those in need with me. I will disappear, fall off the radar, move and build a putrid little life elsewhere. Non-existent and out of reach.
This time, I won't make the mistake of making friends. Of making associations with people who would grow to care. I won't bother myself with discovering who is good and who is bad. I'll just exist.
Too much emotion for one day, and what comes to mind the most at these junctures?
Lisa. How things may have been different. And especially, how my decision to remove her from my life, was the best thing to happen to her. She won't try to desperately hang on as I sink deeper and deeper into depression. She won't feel the pain of defeat when she realizes I cannot be saved.
Anger is so much easier to deal with...
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