Mine.....Depression is very sneaky. Even after living with it for years, it always sneaks up on me. Why do I even care? At the moment, I don't care. I am not suicidal, physically that is. It's not worth the trouble. I don't care that I feel valueless. I don't feel anything, actually. I can't even cry. Tears, really? This is what I feel when my soul is dying. Sad, disappointed, stuck, feeling sorry for self, tired of taking care of myself. Why should I care? Who is going to know or care if I shower today, or a week ago. Or that I wear the same clothes for a week.
The leaves are turning and falling to the ground. Thats how I feel. If thats a feeling. There is a strange calmness in writing this. I am not afraid, I am not anxious, nor sad, I am not nothing. There it is, nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing but the thoughts in my head of a past lifetime.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Sunday, October 30, 2016
What is life?
What is life?
An extension of the pain of birth. A sadness of failure, of missed opportunities, of no opportunities. A never ceasing, never ending attempt to climb out of the depths of despair. The reality of finally realizing that is your lot in life, that it has been the way of your life, acceptance is all there is now, just acceptance.
All that's left is death. The death of the soul. Not a physical death, there is nothing, nothing, without hope there is nothing.
bjw
An extension of the pain of birth. A sadness of failure, of missed opportunities, of no opportunities. A never ceasing, never ending attempt to climb out of the depths of despair. The reality of finally realizing that is your lot in life, that it has been the way of your life, acceptance is all there is now, just acceptance.
All that's left is death. The death of the soul. Not a physical death, there is nothing, nothing, without hope there is nothing.
bjw
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