You know, you're supposed to want to get better. Positive attitude and all that rot!
I'm tired. I'm empty.
Every week to the therapist. Every 4 weeks to the psychiatrist. More ideas, different ideas. More pills, bigger pills. It just doesn’t work and it is because of me. I don’t want it to work. Why bother? Because it has become a routine like brushing you teeth.
I just don’t care any more. There is supposed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. What light? I don’t see any light.
The truth is I want to die. Not I wish I were dead or I hope I die. I want to die.
Soon the letters will be all written. I’ll be able to visit with most of my family one last time. Goodwill will have all the salvageable pieces of my life.
Maybe soon I can be at peace.