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.