UPDATE: I AM NOT GOING TO HARM MYSELF. I just wanted to write so that I can process how I feel. I don't want anyone to worry, so please don't.
The weather has been beautiful. Revitalizing, even, if not for me.
Seems to be working for everyone else.
I can't shake the demons. They are clawing at my soul, threatening to take away everything.
I'm on my couch chain-smoking and drinking. Beautiful day outside. Beautiful. But this beauty belongs to someone, everyone else. Not me.
This is not for me.
March has always been my worst month and goddamn, March 2014 was a fucking doozy. Not sure if I'm recovering from the aftershock of all of it or if I'm just down here forever. I don't feel like I'm going to be happy ever again.
And I don't know why.
I spent the weekend with my niece and three nephews. They're great kids. They make me happy. I don't know why they love me so much. I don't think I've done anything extraordinary for them. I suppose it's innate: we love our family. Of course we love our family. Where would we be without them?
Perhaps it's right here. I have only part of my family. Two of my siblings are gone. One in literal prison and one in a self-imposed, meth-fueled figurative one. My baby bro is lost inside his own head. Much like me, I guess. This is the curse of coming from a broken home, probably. We laugh, we live, we love, we lose.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to get fired within a few days. I wish I cared. This isn't me. I'm a hard worker. I'm diligent and awesome at what I do.
But I don't care.
I miss being with the kids. They make me happy. They make me want to live.
But they also make me look forward to being alone. Kids are exhausting.
Then I'm alone and fuck me, I am completely alone.
I don't want to be alone.
I don't want to get fired.
I don't want to wither away amongst an overfilled ashtray and empty beer cans and wine bottles. I don't want to be me.
I want to be anyone else right now. I want to be okay.
I am not okay.