The theme never changes…
Where to start? These days are getting harder and harder. I feel as though I’m losing grasp of who I am. Who I want to be. My words are no longer mine. My actions are those of someone else. I can’t run away. Too much responsibility. I can’t run home, not enough monetary ability there. I can’t go to the Army because I wouldn’t know what to do with all my stuff while I trained, and right now I couldn’t pass all the tests required to get in. I can’t quite school because I can’t afford repayment of loans. I can’t stand going to school any longer because I’ve fallen behind and lost all passion to continue with work. I just don’t know what to do. Too many “I can’t” I can tell you that much. I want change. I just don’t know what needs changing yet, or how to accomplish it. Daily, I yearn for death. Death helps no one but myself, maybe, and that’s not good enough. I have no job, no money, no friends, no love, no life, no fun. I’ve tried getting out of the box I’ve built myself into, but it just hasn’t worked. Apparently, I’ve lost the ability to be sociable in a positive way. I’ve become the guy people avoid. The guy that people say “why is he talking to ME?”.
I’m losing my mind. I can’t make up of down, or down of up. I can’t make sense of anything. I’m in a constant state of flux where something as small as a fly flapping it’s wings can knock me off my chair. I’ve lost myself. I look in the mirror and I don’t know who I’m looking at anymore. I’m looking at some version of myself that existed before I knew myself. A primitive Donny, full of nothingness. He can’t speak, he can’t see, he can’t experience the wonders of life. He just exists to exist. I don’t know how to add color to his life so that he will in turn, bring color back to my own life. I miss the vibrancy of it all. I miss being happy to wake up a new day. I miss wanting to go out and enjoy the sun. I miss the hope of what’s to come next. Now, my every move is thinking about how it could kill me. I nearly was in an accident on my motorcycle the other day and my initial reaction after recovery was “Why the fuck do I have to have such good reflexes?! That was my out!”. These thoughts should disturb anyone reading, as they do disturb me. I know I need help, but I can’t afford help. I’m barreling through life on my own. I’ve lost those I used to talk to by either pushing them away or them getting away on their own. I’m not going to pull them back in to tell them that life is shit when it really isn’t. I’m not going to pull them back in telling them that life is bad but then not be able to explain why. I feel like I’m wearing a new mask for every person I interact with. I can’t let anyone know the exact turmoil going on in my body, my mind, my soul. I just put on a mask and a smile and pretend like I’m only as broken as I’ve been my whole life, but in reality, I’m shattered to the core. My thoughts only torment me when I’m sober. And even when intoxicated, the bad thoughts are learning to pick the lock and creep in. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how much longer I can go on acting like everything is ok. I don’t know how much longer I can be me. I don’t know where to go from here!
For the record, I had an amazing time in Jamaica. I wish that week never would have ended. But, it reminded me so much more of how miserable I am with my life in every aspect. But mainly, socially. I was never meant to be a loner, but that is what I have turned into. Not completely by choice, partially by nature. I’m shy, I have tried to break through that barrier, but it’s a long hard road and so far, it isn’t paying off. I still have a few of my old friends, but I fear that they will leave me as we get older and they find more socially competent people. But perhaps that is for the best. If everyone leaves me, if all ties to Donny are broken, then maybe I will be free. Free to go wherever and do whatever without repercussion. Maybe, then, I can disappear, never to be heard from again and no one will be effected. Then it won’t be a selfish act. Then it will just be what it is. Who knows when that will happen. But I see it happening. Danny has become too busy to talk to me lately. And when he gets into school, I foresee him being permanently busy. Then there’s Dylan, who has joined a frat, and if Tom didn’t prove this, he will leave me for them in time. The few others I’ve spent my time talking to over the last couple years have seemed to be disappearing in recent months. My phone is getting little to no use. It’s almost a waste to be paying the bill anymore. This has been incoherent rambling for the last several sentences so I think I’ve accomplished the decompression I needed. Too bad that it’s too late to do anything productive at this point. I need to try to get some sleep as I’m forcefully in charge of Rachel in the morning, which I attribute as the number 1 downfall of my life lately. Getting up at 730am every morning NEVER has been and NEVER will be me. It fucks my entire day up. It makes me either a zombie for the rest of the day, unable to concentrate on homework, or it makes me take a nap, wasting the time I need to complete homework. It’s a lose-lose. But, in my current situation, I can’t exactly tell that to Jeff. He’ll tell me to quit whining, then he’ll try to prove that humans naturally thrive by sleeping nights and getting up early. I’ll continue to tell him I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE AND NEVER HAVE BEEN. And we’ll just go in a circle. It’s all fucked. And don’t get me on that fucking dog that IS NOT MINE IN ANY WAY, SHAPE or FORM but I have to walk him the most. It’s bullshit. And it too fucks with my sleep. I’m expected to give him a midnight walk and be up at 730, already making sure I can’t have 8 hours of sleep. It’s fucked. I think I need a hobby, too bad I have no time while playing partial parent, dog caretaker, full-time student and bitch for anything else anyone in this family needs me to do.