Actual post=depressing, move along.
Looking back at the failure that is my life, I often wonder why I bother to go on. My career was a failure, careening itself recklessly for years of substance abuse and bad decisions to land me in a retail slave position with a glorified title. Most days, it takes everything I have to not steer my car into oncoming traffic, or better yet, just jump out at 50mph and roll without the car into oncoming traffic, rather than go into work. I hate my job, but Im stuck because other people count on me to support them.
Im drowning in debt, and dont see a way out of it anymore. In fact, due to finances as of late, Ive pretty much stopped paying anything that wasnt rent, car, or utility. For 2 years I managed to somehow keep all the flaming bill batons in the air, somehow managing to scrape together at least a minimum payment or defer it and catch up the next month. That all came crashing down around me in January though, and I havent even been able to pick up the pieces since then.
Three days before Xmas, I was more or less suspended from my job due to a subordinates need to retaliate against me for reprimanding them for poor performance. I had a discrimination complaint lobbied against me, as this person was a minority, and they also shared information from a series of random conversations we'd had over the course of the two years prior, all taken out of context of course, that basically amounted to that Id threatened to kill myself. The discrimination charge was pretty much just thrown away as the pile of shit that it was, but the other part got me a month and a half of unexpected, and unpaid, vacation. This is my fault though, as when my direct boss asked me point blank if I felt like I wanted to kill myself I answered honestly. Of course I added the subtext that I wanting to and going to were different things, as I had people who counted on me to keep them alive and afloat and that my sense of responsibility outweighed my need to end my misery. Didnt matter. On the bright side, after the 6 weeks of no work, no income, and 850 bucks out of pocket I had to pay for all these mandatory therapy and psychiatric appointments I had to do to not be fired, I now have confirmation that I suffer from clinical depression. I pretty much already suspected such, glad that in the farce of "helping me" my life was made a shit-ton worse.
I feel alone. Totally. Like noone sees how miserable I am. If it wasnt for my daughter, this would be a suicide note and not an update. And I dont mean that in a "her love keeps me going" sort of way, the reality is its a "she needs my income to eat" thing. I dont feel like her mother gives a shit about how unhappy I am, even though shes not directly the cause of any of it, or maybe she just doesnt notice. I tell her of course. Frequently. It just doesnt seem to matter to anyone but me. Its like I havent mattered to anyone but me in so long, that I dont even care about me anymore. Of course, that cant be entirely true, or I wouldnt bitch about it anymore.
Since at least my late teens, Ive always seen things out of the corner of my eye that werent actually there. I dont mean that as a metaphor, I mean it as written. Lately Ive noticed that this happens a lot more frequently than it used to, and in a wider field of vision, but still peripheral. Leads me to think that I have some serious mental/emotional issues that havent been diagnosed and are getting worse. Too bad for me, I suppose, I cant afford health care... not even the shitty plan my employer provides. Fuck, Im not even sure if I can feed all of us for the next week and a half, so my brain is really tertiary at this moment. In addition, Ive been feeling a lot of chest tightening lately, more than usual. Its cause for concern, but really its likely due to stress or whatever. Mostly its not actual pain or anything, and really dropping over from a massive coronary might be good this week. I still smoke, am mostly sedentary, and my diet sucks. Could be a lot of things given that and my age really. Whatever, one more stick for the forest of shit that is my existence.
I have no goals, no ambitions, no money, no love, no reason... I mean, whats the point anyhow? Someone tell me, cause Im out of answers. That is more a metaphor, cause most people wont ever read this, and the answers that do come will come off to me as misinformed, misquoted, or misunderstanding the brevity of this all to me. It kills me to know that the only reason Im alive at the moment is to provide for my daughter and her mother, and I cant even provide for them. My kid goes hungry, I wear shoes with holes in them to work, she has barely any clothes to wear (and what she does have my mother sent her as gifts), I dont know why I soldier on. I really dont.
Unwanted, unappreciated, unable. Three words to sum up my life. Someone put them on a posterboard to mark the freeway ditch that will become my grave.