Most days it feels like I’m suffocating. I want to reach out to heavens and scream for help but to whom and for what? There’s no help out there for me and nothing that can ease the pain. I feel completely hopeless. The anger has subsided and there’s nothing left. I know my life is hopeless, I know it can’t get better. This is what my life is. I hear Tyler Durden saying “This is your pain. This is your burning hand.”
But I find ways to distract myself. Only ever momentarily. Some laughter or a passing thought, an interesting idea. It all goes through me and I’m left the same. My body seems ghostly, like you can almost see through it. All its substance has somehow vanished.
I suffer. I suffer too much. And for what? Why do I bother? This false hope is eating me alive!
Sometimes I feel like a story I once heard. President Reagan towards the end of his life, no longer able to remember that he was president, but somehow turning to his wife and asking, “I used to be important, wasn’t I?” I feel that way. Like I forgot. I was smart once. I had… something? But I can’t remember and I’m pretty sure it’s gone.
I don’t want to live anymore. What keeps me alive? I feel like an animal. One rejected by the heard. And persist simply to survive. I follow the heard in the distance as it travels. Picking up scraps of food from their hunt. Hoping that maybe they will let me back in. But they won’t and its useless but I survive just the same.
Perhaps if I could find meaning in my death, the meaning I couldn’t find in life. If I could tell a story and connect with humanity in the way I couldn’t in life. Maybe then I could sleep and mourn all that was and that ever will be.