I wish I were dead.

Yes, I said that. And it’s true. I’m stuck between two worlds. One where I wish I belonged, and the one I actually belong too. Neither one is particularly appealing.

Problem is, to exist in the world of other people (the world I wish I belonged to), requires too much dishonestly. Too much self monitoring, too much of not being who I really am. There are rules, a social contract and a mutual understanding of the phrase “do no harm…” I’ve played the game, I’ve done my best to live in the pretty world. The pretty world full of promise and hope, of love and laughter and of dreams. A pretty world where the word “hope” isn’t a dirty four letter word.

Yet, in my mind, “hope” is a dirty, foul word. Which is why I’ve decided to accept and dwell  in the world I belong. My world is cruel, empty and lonely. It’s desolate and barren. Ugly and harsh. Rotten to the core, just like me.

It’s a lonely world. A world without true love. There is no companionship, no trust. Me and the miscreants, the malingering, the ugly twisted shapes of humans not meant to be. It is visually and viscerally apocalyptic.

I feel like a fraud. Trying so hard for so long to fit into the world of others. I can say without a modicum of guilt that I did my best, and I did my best for a very long time.  Forty years or there’s about.

My best efforts have been put forth for the past 15 years.  I put every ounce of effort and energy, every resource, every drop of blood in my body has tried to be “good”. I wanted to be worthy of the world I pushed myself into.

I rid myself of harmful and unsavory habits. The obvious: drugs, alcohol, tobacco…and the hidden dirty habits: cutting myself to soothe away the pain caused by living in a world not made for me. Checking out; allowing myself the freedom to come and go from this world to that one and back and forth and so on and so forth…

The price of admission is too high for me. I cannot be with you in the world you live in, my friends. I’m full of guilt and shame. I did believe so much that I could be somebody other than who I am.  A highly refined, polished and pretty version of myself was not meant to be.

I fell in love. Truly and madly in love. Love and friendship are the tokens of my shame. I was so convinced that I would and could survive that world that I let others into my heart. And that decision mocks me every single day. It is agony to look upon the faces of the ones I love- knowing that I have sealed my fate…

By allowing you, he or she or him, into my heart- into my world and I into yours, I have wedged myself firmly between that rock and the hard place. There’s no easy way out now.

I cannot go quietly into that good night… I cannot throw myself under that train or off of that bridge. Nope. I must spend my days tortured by the site of the bridge, less than a hundred yards from my window. And I am tormented by that bridge. I can see it from every room- I can hear the trains as they screech along the rails, day after day, night after night.  For christ’s sake, they named the street after it.

Fuck me.





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