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Today I was at home like usual. My roommate and I cooked dinner on the grill.It turned out good,But than again I am good on a grill,I am teaching him how to cook on a grill. But here it is 4:21 am(I don't sleep at night)Roommate is in bed. He's gonna be out of here in an hour or so to go to work,on the boom truck.
For today depression was creeping into me.Like a foul dark fog. my joints ache.My head is achy I just want to curl up.
Now I am feeling suicidal pangs. Not strong ones where you are making a plan or whatever,just the repetitive intrusive thoughts that come and go, where it's almost like an enchantment that isn't enchanting at all.
sigh.Will this shitty emotion ever go away and leave me alone. I hate my life.I can't figure out how to fix it, fill it up, or make it mean something.Make it fulfilled,especially living here. I wish I could go into a coma until my housing situation got better.It's so isolated out here.Sprawl kills me on the inside out.This is a nice house but it is empty and lonely and a cage.
I wish the economy was not such a tyrant If I had another roommate would they be able to be around instead of working all the time? I dunno.I feel like work would be too much stress I cannot depend on a bully or some boss that intimidates for my sustenance it would drive me up a wall.Yet being here alone just hurts. Life just sucks.I wish there were more options besides work, there is nothing I can do here,everything is far away.I can't walk all that way and the shitty bus shuts down at 5 pm.Everything social here begins after work after the bus is shut down.Meeting friends is very difficult. I wish I was not here.
How long will I have to lump it? I have no clue. It feels like a jail sentence with no discernible end ,like living in a huge quiet room all the time,except I got TV the web and my cats and it is slowly driving me into despair again. There is talk, always the talk of maybes and sometime later we'll look for something,for you..those vague half made promises that really promise nothing, because it's not about helping me ,my mom says this false hope just because she can't handle the fact I am suffering out here.I wish she'd say yes and commit to helping me or say no she won't help or say nothing about helping me get out of here. I hate her self serving false hopes she speaks to me knowing damn well she isn't going to do a damn thing. They hurt because I know I am stuck in this trap this place this unhappy life and I can't fix it..
I hope my life isn't too long.Because if this is what my life is going to be I dunno how long I can take it this way.Mom just does not get it that emotionally I am dying in this house,all alone day after day.I see my roommate maybe an hour or two a few times a week.And she wonders why I have nothing to talk about. Well it's because my life is empty how does one talk about the pulse pounding excitement of nothingness and the intrigues of a life spent in isolation? What do you do when you wake up triggered by the deafening silence of an empty house that feels like a tomb?
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