(no subject)
It's funny how when there's no one to turn to... when there's no place to run to... I always end up right back here in my journal. I've had this thing since adolescence; telling it my biggest fears and my deepest, darkest secrets. Now, this is the only option...
I'm lonely. I feel lonely when I'm with the people I love to be around. It's more dangerous when I'm actually alone. I hate texting people because I feel like a bother more times than not. Especially people that I'm interested in. They never make the move to text me as often as I want to text them. That bodes well for my anxiety (ends sarcasm). I just hate to bug people, so I just suffer in my loneliness, well, alone.
I tend to always have a smile on my face, so nobody can tell anything is wrong with me. But if they only knew. I thought almost dying those couple of years ago would give me the fuel I needed to get my shit together. In some aspects, I have. But the lack outweighs the success. I think my depression has hit a dangerous level and I don't want anyone to worry. Especially now that I feel the symptoms coming back. Or maybe that's just my mind playing tricks on me. I won't know until I see the doctors next week.
I'm so full of regrets, with opportunities, with chances, with women. I just don't know what it's going to take for me to truly be happy. Maybe my solace will only be tied in with my demise. Maybe this is karma for every thing and every one I've ever taken for granted. Maybe this is God's way of telling me "third attempt's a charm".... but then why would he have saved me all of those times I should've died? Guess I'll never know...
My mind is all over the place. I barely hear people when they talk to me, let alone understand them. I haven't been recollecting information all that well lately. I think my mind just might be overloaded with the fact that I sleep alone every night. I used to want a marriage, I used to want children, I used to want a family... what the fuck happened along the way? I wish I could fully blame it on other people, but I can't. Others had their hand in it, but the choices were still ultimately mine. I've been close to proposing, only to find out I was getting fucked over left and right. I've had children who sadly never got to open their tiny eyes and see this world. I've had love that just turned to shit after time passed and their true character's were revealed. Even after all of the bullshit I still want to love... I still want to be loved... and not have to worry about who fucked who, or who dated who, or who's still attached to others... Just seems like I'll never get it...
I know I can't turn back the hands of time, and I have to look forward with the eyes of hope, but honestly... this shit is getting more difficult as each day passes. With my mother and grandfather gone, New York doesn't feel like home anymore. I hate going there. I hate being around my family for holidays while my two favorite people are missing. I kinda just want to get blackout drunk again this Christmas, but I'm sure I'll have to save face, paint on a false smile and be around people, while still feeling crippling loneliness on the inside.
On top of that, I have to be realistic that I may not even make it to 40 years of age... (sigh) And who's going to want to be with me, knowing that fun fact? Maybe this is just what I deserve...
I'm lonely. I feel lonely when I'm with the people I love to be around. It's more dangerous when I'm actually alone. I hate texting people because I feel like a bother more times than not. Especially people that I'm interested in. They never make the move to text me as often as I want to text them. That bodes well for my anxiety (ends sarcasm). I just hate to bug people, so I just suffer in my loneliness, well, alone.
I tend to always have a smile on my face, so nobody can tell anything is wrong with me. But if they only knew. I thought almost dying those couple of years ago would give me the fuel I needed to get my shit together. In some aspects, I have. But the lack outweighs the success. I think my depression has hit a dangerous level and I don't want anyone to worry. Especially now that I feel the symptoms coming back. Or maybe that's just my mind playing tricks on me. I won't know until I see the doctors next week.
I'm so full of regrets, with opportunities, with chances, with women. I just don't know what it's going to take for me to truly be happy. Maybe my solace will only be tied in with my demise. Maybe this is karma for every thing and every one I've ever taken for granted. Maybe this is God's way of telling me "third attempt's a charm".... but then why would he have saved me all of those times I should've died? Guess I'll never know...
My mind is all over the place. I barely hear people when they talk to me, let alone understand them. I haven't been recollecting information all that well lately. I think my mind just might be overloaded with the fact that I sleep alone every night. I used to want a marriage, I used to want children, I used to want a family... what the fuck happened along the way? I wish I could fully blame it on other people, but I can't. Others had their hand in it, but the choices were still ultimately mine. I've been close to proposing, only to find out I was getting fucked over left and right. I've had children who sadly never got to open their tiny eyes and see this world. I've had love that just turned to shit after time passed and their true character's were revealed. Even after all of the bullshit I still want to love... I still want to be loved... and not have to worry about who fucked who, or who dated who, or who's still attached to others... Just seems like I'll never get it...
I know I can't turn back the hands of time, and I have to look forward with the eyes of hope, but honestly... this shit is getting more difficult as each day passes. With my mother and grandfather gone, New York doesn't feel like home anymore. I hate going there. I hate being around my family for holidays while my two favorite people are missing. I kinda just want to get blackout drunk again this Christmas, but I'm sure I'll have to save face, paint on a false smile and be around people, while still feeling crippling loneliness on the inside.
On top of that, I have to be realistic that I may not even make it to 40 years of age... (sigh) And who's going to want to be with me, knowing that fun fact? Maybe this is just what I deserve...