What is becoming of a tragic story
God, it seems like my life should be a damned novel. Might just have to write one about it, I think people would actually read it. My life has become a serious of freaking dreams... I'm never actually "here" on the outside, I try my hardest to keep it all together, and so far it's been working, because only a select few actually know whats going on in my head. Well, somewhat anyways. I don't even think I know what it is anymore. Every morning I wake up, I don't know where I am, and every morning I depress myself with my surroundings. I can't be here anymore. I can't find another job, I can't get the damned V.A. to do anything about my disability, and I sure as hell can't go back into the Air Force. Every day it gets worse... my legs, my thoughts, my spirit.... all seemingly failing me. The only time i've actually felt anything other than despair in the past couple of months was for the few hours when I was with old friends, and then when I went on my random roadtrip... simply because for a little bit, I felt free... nothing mattered. I'm afraid to even fucking go to sleep anymore, because I can't handle having anymore of these dreams. I can't be where I want to be, where for once in my life I actually felt complete, and it's killing me. Last night, I stumbled acrossed a package with all of the letters and pictures I got from when I was in the Air Force, and my stupid ass decided to look through them. Needless to say, all the feelings came rushing back, and I broke down, feeling once again helpless. It felt exactly like the morning I woke up and couldn't walk anymore, I knew everything I worked so hard for, All my hopes and dreams, were being torn away from me. I never want to have to feel that, ever again