Nothing seems to have any meaning. Work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep…. Why?
Everything I touch turns to shit. I can’t name a single person who is better off because of me. If I were to disappear right now I could probably only name one person who would notice.
It’s so difficult being alone, trying to reach out for any connection and finding nothing there. I’m tired of fighting. I’m ready to give up.
There are days when it takes all the strength I have to stop my car’s engine when I close the garage door. I could just lean the seat back and take a nice little carbon monoxide nap and all the suffering and loneliness and sadness will stop for me.
I don’t know. I keep going, I keep trudging along. But I don’t know how long I can continue.