Things are not so easy right now. And to save on some crazy morose spewing of woe I just figured I’d just write a short entry. I have committed to myself to write here daily. And I want to write. But truth be told, anything I may write today is the kind of stuff that gets me sitting with a doctor in an emergency room trying to explain I am not a danger to myself.
Dark thoughts, sadness and hunger all sort of creep up on me sometimes. And I try to pray it away. And I take the medication and I talk to counsellors and pastors and people who say they care. But at 4:30 in the morning when no one is around it seems the only peace I can find is the thought that this doesn’t have to go on, that I can get out any time I want.
It’s tough, talking about these things. People and legislation want to err on the side of caution and so I have to be silent or very careful of what I say. Lest I wind up triggering some legal and moral issue. And that may be the great failing of this crazy beureaucratic society we live in now. One cannot openly and honestly talk about what’s inside for fear of the repercussions and misconceptions.
Someday I may take that one last step, off the ledge and into the great void. But probably not today. But I sure do feel lonely enough to think that were I to, no one but one tiny little girl would notice me missing after a little while and after the initial shock wore off of the gossip about how tragic it all was. And somehow that tells me I have failed at much more than I am willing to see. Have I alienated myself that much? Am I that far away? Why can’t I feel close to people? And why don’t they come close to me? A whole bunch of questions like that leave me feeling lost.
Sometimes I wonder if anyone really hears me anyway. Even here in this medium.
Lonely, poor and feeling mired in grief and pain. And I really don’t know what to do.
Sometimes…I just don’t think it will ever be alright again.