Sometimes I realize that I can't quite remember what it used to be like. I can't remember waking up and feeling happy, or even content. I can't remember waking up and not feeling tired or deathly exhausted. I can't remember what it's like to live without this constant dread that hangs over me like a sadistic guillotine that I can't even see. Every problem is invisible and buried so deeply that I can't even recognize it anymore. I have no idea where I'm turning or what I'm twisting around to make into such horrible and hateful ideas. I have no idea when it became a time that I couldn't stand to live within my own skin and why I don't know how to adjust to being who I am. I never realized that this is how life would be at the "best years of my life" and I wonder if this is how it's going to be forever. Sometimes I wonder if it's all a cruel joke because it certainly seems like it and I have no idea how to climb out of this putrid, stinking pit that I've fallen into. The muck and slime and shit curling in waves against a barren and burning shore, a tunnel into nowhere and you fall into nothingness. There is NO WAY OUT that I can see and no one can give me any advice save "snap out of it" and "hold on". It's a habit I can't shake and a mood I can't break, something that holds onto me so firmly that at times I wonder if I've failed somehow. What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to force the universe to catapult me into this misery? What is this dark dread that fills me like a demented, lethal lover, and how can I force it from my flesh? The world is a cataclysm of pain and agony filled with brief sparks of life and laughter, a false hope that brings false deeds and false promises. Even children can tell. Even a child whispers to pray for me because I have such tears. Because I have such pain. And there is no release. Release has been denied. Oh, but a night of laughter... and yet it returns when I am alone. Alone, sobering, exhausted and angry. Frustrated with each ragged breath I take and every single moment that I'm wasting on this earth. I wonder if there has ever been a single thing I have done to make this life worthwhile. If I have ever actually made an impact on the world or even my small corner of it. How is it that I can be upset at those who cannot hold such hours as I? That cannot sit with me and share in my misery? How is it that I can have the selfish gall to let others dwell upon my problems? God forbid that I ever hurt someone for the way that I am; there will be no mercy for me if I do. I want nothing other than my smiles to be genuine, all of them. For laughter and light to fill my heart even for a single day. For this fog that hangs over me in such deep and dark despair to cease and desist before agony is a word that is such a grand understatement that it mocks the irony of the situation. I cannot breathe anymore. Every moment takes effort. All I can do is wait as the seconds pass. I am wasting my life. Am I wasting my life? Am I doing anything that makes this suffering worth it? I am trying so very hard to understand what it is that I have to do in order to stop this madness... but no matter how long and loudly I scream to the heavens...
I receive only silence.