The Waltz
For a long time now I've been dancing with the devil. I've tried numerous times to change partners but he won't let go of my hand. I've discovered in the meantime. that the devil seems to have a lot to do with my happiness. When I just let the music flow and I follow his lead I seem to have any easier time of life. But when I try to back away and do the right thing my life gets turned upside down. I may please those I interact with but my life, well it just sucks.
I'm trying real hard to do the right thing. But the more right I do, the harder things become. Since I've turned over a new leaf, I've attempted suicide once and fascinate about it all the time. That however would fill my dance card permanently with just one suitor. The one I don't want anymore. I take numerous medications for depression and anxiety, I'm not sure if they are helping are hurting. Without them I'm full of rage and sadness but somehow I find joy in things. When I take them. I can't concentrate on much for long (it will show in my writing). And I stay in a perpetual state of sadness and misery. I talk to God a lot and find myself questioning him. Which for my limited knowledge I don't believe you're supposed to do. I don't sleep anymore and when I do it's from shear exhaustion. So I have plenty of time to think. This is bad. I can think but I can't concentrate so we're talking about hundreds of different thought patterns a day.
This means I have discovered since I became sick I no longer serve a purpose. My kids are pretty much grown, one is even gonna be a daddy himself. The other needs nor wants anything from me. My wife only sees me as a burden on the couch. Nobody has had to tell me these things. Even with all my crazy thoughts I'm still smart enough to read people. I can't leave the house much so my friends have all moved on with their lives. I think there's one or two that may still be there for me if I called but at the same time they don't call to see if they are needed. I can't talk to anyone about this because then I a whiner and I'm told to sack up and get over it. Sometimes it not that easy. Believe me if it were I would have done it already. I've sacked up a few times and it just makes matters worth. There's a price to pay when you're trying to break away from the devil.
I lay awake all night praying for sleep, anything to stop the voices, part of the time I'm praying for death. I get neither. Maybe it's just part of the punishment. Maybe I'm paying for my life of sin. As I type this I'm getting more and more melancholy by the minute. I would suggest if you don't like the darker side if shit that you stay away from this blog.
I live with 3 people yet I'm lonelier than I've ever been in my life. I stay on the verge of tears plus I live with the constant desire to cut my wrist. It's not a cry fro help, it's a cry to stop the pain. Did I forget to mention he pain? It's constant. Everywhere hurts. I have a torn rotator cuff, I have a damaged hip from a fight with my oldest. I suffer flu like pain continuously, head to toes. I have diabetes. I have cirrhosis of the liver. If the pills don't make me crazy the pain does. And I firmly believe my family is through with me. Is there hope? I don't know, I like to think so. I would hate to think I fight and struggle day to day for no reason. I'm not looking for pity I just got no one to talk to. This kind of talk in my house is considered weak and met wit disdain. I trained them well. I used to be strong but now I have to wonder how much was me and how much was an outside force.
No witty sign off.
I'm trying real hard to do the right thing. But the more right I do, the harder things become. Since I've turned over a new leaf, I've attempted suicide once and fascinate about it all the time. That however would fill my dance card permanently with just one suitor. The one I don't want anymore. I take numerous medications for depression and anxiety, I'm not sure if they are helping are hurting. Without them I'm full of rage and sadness but somehow I find joy in things. When I take them. I can't concentrate on much for long (it will show in my writing). And I stay in a perpetual state of sadness and misery. I talk to God a lot and find myself questioning him. Which for my limited knowledge I don't believe you're supposed to do. I don't sleep anymore and when I do it's from shear exhaustion. So I have plenty of time to think. This is bad. I can think but I can't concentrate so we're talking about hundreds of different thought patterns a day.
This means I have discovered since I became sick I no longer serve a purpose. My kids are pretty much grown, one is even gonna be a daddy himself. The other needs nor wants anything from me. My wife only sees me as a burden on the couch. Nobody has had to tell me these things. Even with all my crazy thoughts I'm still smart enough to read people. I can't leave the house much so my friends have all moved on with their lives. I think there's one or two that may still be there for me if I called but at the same time they don't call to see if they are needed. I can't talk to anyone about this because then I a whiner and I'm told to sack up and get over it. Sometimes it not that easy. Believe me if it were I would have done it already. I've sacked up a few times and it just makes matters worth. There's a price to pay when you're trying to break away from the devil.
I lay awake all night praying for sleep, anything to stop the voices, part of the time I'm praying for death. I get neither. Maybe it's just part of the punishment. Maybe I'm paying for my life of sin. As I type this I'm getting more and more melancholy by the minute. I would suggest if you don't like the darker side if shit that you stay away from this blog.
I live with 3 people yet I'm lonelier than I've ever been in my life. I stay on the verge of tears plus I live with the constant desire to cut my wrist. It's not a cry fro help, it's a cry to stop the pain. Did I forget to mention he pain? It's constant. Everywhere hurts. I have a torn rotator cuff, I have a damaged hip from a fight with my oldest. I suffer flu like pain continuously, head to toes. I have diabetes. I have cirrhosis of the liver. If the pills don't make me crazy the pain does. And I firmly believe my family is through with me. Is there hope? I don't know, I like to think so. I would hate to think I fight and struggle day to day for no reason. I'm not looking for pity I just got no one to talk to. This kind of talk in my house is considered weak and met wit disdain. I trained them well. I used to be strong but now I have to wonder how much was me and how much was an outside force.
No witty sign off.
posted by Trashman at 9:47 PM
2 Comments:
I have seen many friends dance with th e devil. It is not pretty. I feel for you man. Not pity but a sadness for who you used to be. Back in the day when I first started blogging yours was one of the first I was drawn to. Loud-mouthed and badassed. My kinda a dude to have a steak a beer and a stogie with. I want to read that guys shit again. I am not a religious man but I do believe in God. I know there is a devil and have seen evil. Hell I live in New Jersey. Physical hell for me is here on earth. Your hell is in your head The worst place it can get to. Im not gonna blow smoke up your ass and tell you everything is lollipops and roses because it obviously is not. Who you were is still there inside you all you have to do is read the old Trashman posts. I bet slowly but surely the old you will come back as will your familial relationships. Im am not going to tell you to sack up but I am going to tell you that you are going to have to set your jaw in the direction you want your life to go. Then work at keeping the bad shit out of your mind, sure it will come but you have to find something better and replace it. Keep your faith in God, He is not for us in this life but the next. We must prove our worthiness to be with Him. You will get through this rough patch only if your will is stronger than your dancing partners. Keep posting here and on Trashman. Hit me up on my blog. You need someone to talk to you let me know.
Dang. Call me.
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