Depression and I day: 14,569.
I want to escape me. Get out of this vessel that no longer travels and be free of myself. Discontinue once and for all the madness of daily pain and anguish I feel and through it bestow unto others.
I'm incredibly tired. Being myself has earned me the hatred of those I love in times I may most need them. I look up at the sky knowing there is only water vapor expecting no answers from the people's god(s).
My life in ruins inside, with my darkened heart ever so slowly, yielding to a force -myself- that on its destructive and sullen path wishes for release. I am in decadent stride towards the empty fields my life feels itself to be lost in. I'm in a pool of my own grief with thick tears the texture of tree sap which prevent my rise and in its daily struggle, like quick sand, sink me deeper into this oblivion of a life.
I am a deserter of my own will. There is no sentiment in this note. How can anyone understand me now if not before has my desire for betterment been understood? My screams for help, silent as the clamor expressed in dreams has yet to help or save me from my endless fall into an abyss that simply doesn't exist, or if it does, does so only in my broken brain.
I can't gather the strength to leave my son blaming himself for something he has no fault over, or my wife trying to figure out exactly what it is she did wrong; when wrong has no merit here. Especially when the inflicted damage will be a permanent one, a fire scar singed into their brain forever bumpy and ill received....
I feel that I don't, I don't know that I do, I do simply deny, deny my ability, and forlorn: exist.
