I suppose I've always been alone; at least, I've always felt I was. Invisible to the outside world. Here, but not really here. Just there... being worthless and taking up space.
You'd think after struggling for 35 years, I might finally be able to experience a sense of belonging in this world; a taste of what it might be like to be needed. You'd probably be wrong. I don't feel needed... never have. And we know that things that aren't needed quickly become things that are useless and therefore expendable.
Days in the life of... well, me. It is here I share the high points, the low points, and .... some other points... and stuff.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Leaving Hell
When someone commits suicide, so many people are quick to call that person "weak". As someone who actually understands depression and the hell it is, I often think about how strong that person must have been to hold on and fight for so long... especially with no help at all.
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