I know, it’s been a while.  I’ve been trying to get my shit together and see the brighter side of life.

That’s not going so well.

It doesn’t matter who I have in this life, friends or significant others.  I can’t find happiness in anything other than sleeping.  I told a friend today that I just want to walk off my job, sell all my possessions and just… disappear.  I don’t want to be found.  I just want to be left alone.

Sometimes I think I want to blame my lack of positivity and drive and motivation in this life on my mother. The verbal/emotional abuse growing up left quite the stigma on me.  I can’t see the positivity in anything.  Nothing brings me even an ounce of joy.  I may have a significant other now but I feel very little.  I think I’m actually broken.  Like 100% broken and I have zero desire to fix it.

I’ve started thinking about dying again.  As if that weren’t obvious.  I really just want to clean my house, write a short makeshift will and call it good.  Kill myself.  Whatever.  Who the fuck made these retarded rules in life that I have to work to have a purpose?  That I have to have possessions I’ll never afford to show some kind of value? I own a newish car that I drove right off the lot, I must be making good money. I don’t own a house, I must be lousy with money.

Where’s my cabin in the Alaskan frontier with nothing more than books and basic necessities?

You know what?  I bet even then I won’t be happy.