Can barely handle this. Trying to survive tonight. There’s no point, nothing to hold onto, nothing to blame, no one that can comfort me. So I hate myself for being in this place. Want to bash myself against something, want physical pain to give me a focus instead of this lostness that throws me about without marking my skin. Cruel gentle torture. Tearing me apart inside. Leaving a hollow shell that just crumbles when there is nothing else left. I am what is consumed by this pain. I am the nothing else. I am the cold empty cavern, that echoes your footfalls as you walk through me unknowingly. To most I do not exist. To me I am a dark chamber, yearning to be filled with light. Longing for life when I know only emptiness, the pain of isolation, the hurt of being misunderstood.
I don’t want tomorrow to arrive. Most days are the same for me, pain. I can’t face another. More failure. More hopeless unrest. More reminders of what I’m missing.
How can I be not failing when I achieve almost nothing? When I fall behind. When I let others down. When I can’t contribute.