5-10-11

I'm still here.  I don't know if I really want to be here.

Every morning I make the choice to get up and go to work like a real person.  I don't feel like a real person.  I'm empty.  A shell that looks and moves and sounds like a person.

Hopelessness burns like fire on my soul.
In this moment and the next and the next I am fine.
Only when I let the future in does the emptiness try to consume me.
What am I living for?  What is my purpose?  Why don't I just give up?

I want to stop living.
I want peace in my soul.
I want quiet in my mind.
I want a respite from this endless fight to be.

I'm tired of fighting myself.  I'm tired of everything.
Why can't I just lie down?
Why don't I just end it?
Why do I keep pretending everything is all right when my world is crumbling burning falling drowning bleeding into nothingness?

Because I don't know how to do anything else.
I've told you a thousand times in my head these things.
And a thousand times you've said nothing back.  Not even in my dreams.
How could you when I will never tell you these things?

I'm afraid to die without telling you.
I'm more afraid that once I tell you I won't be afraid to die.

This is not a suicide note.  This is merely a brief snapshot of my state of mind.  I will return with happier or at least less depressing posts.

~Gilly