That’s it. I’m back where I used to be. I had been on a happy kick for a few weeks but now I’ve dropped back down. Shit. And I thought things were going well for me.
I managed to pull myself out because people I highly regard and respect gave me compliments. For example; My idol tattoo artist said he liked a lot of the work I did. In that moment I have never felt happier. I can’t recall a time when I was just that ecstatic. My idol. MY FUCKING, IDOL.
I’m realizing now though that I have no real skill though. I make shit look nice but what do I have to show for? I haven’t gotten anywhere, and no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to make things work. People are always asking me to draw this shit for them, but never want to give me anything in return. What the hell does that say about me? Even when I ask. I’ll say, “can’t you give me like, at least 3 dollars so I can get a new pencil or something?” But no. No one gives two shits. They just want to use me. It’s not about helping me or even asking me to help them. They just want their shit done for free from an amateur who can use a pencil but than an ape.
My head has been throbbing to the point of exploding all day. It started while I was driving home from class today. I literally just go so fucking angry my hands went numb from gripping the steering wheel so hard. All of the shit that used to haunt me came flooding back in a matter of seconds and I almost pulled over so I could get out and punch the shit out of the ground.
How the hell can I fucking function in society if I can’t deal with my problems?
I’m always saying I can’t deal with this shit anymore, but when is my body gonna live up to that statement? I’m feeling drained. Like no one cares. I don’t give a fuck who springs up after I post this because everyone thinks this is my cry for attention. My big “final speech” or “last words” before I kill myself.
Well fuck you for not being around before.
Where the hell were you when I sat shaking from the nightmares?
Where the hell were you when I couldn’t move from the pain in my chest and head?
Where the hell were you when the flashbacks hit me so hard I think I may have passed out?
People think they can help, but they’re what makes me worse.
I would never say this to anyone’s face though, because I’m a pussy. I don’t have the balls to confront anyone because what the hell would I do? Threaten them? I’m not even that fucking intimidating.
I just wish people…. understood?
No.
I don’t give a fuck.
I don’t know what I want.
I have no idea what I’ve ever wanted.
I want to end it but I’m a pussy.
I know I’m not strong enough.
But fuck everything,
I continue to be dead inside while everyone thinks I’m living.
No one cares anyway.