I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to give up as bad as I do right now. Not suicide, please don’t mistake me. I’m talking about this notion that I thought I could make my life better, thought I could do more. How long do I plug away when all the signs point to giving up? These tests or trials or this shit called life, I’ve fucking had enough. Every day is something else, every day is something devastating. It’s like I’m getting a beating, and some of the blows are shallow – they hurt but only bruise. But some of them are strong enough to break skin and bone. And they just keep coming. I don’t know what to do, except get up tomorrow and see what it brings. I don’t think I have a choice anymore, I’m just a passenger on someone else’s train ride
I’ve lost my spirit. I’ve lost my will to give a damn. I’m so tired I’m never not tired. I’m so stressed I can even keep the two pounds off that I somehow managed to lose. Every day I question why I did this, why I thought this is the right thing to do. Every day I have a headache I question it, and every night as I lay awake I question it.
What good has it brought? Any? A failed relationship, I shit ton more debt and a job where I’m worked just as hard for less money than I should be making. My house is disgusting, and probably too big for just me. I can’t get rid of my other house. When does it get easier? Better? How do I stop the madness?