I already feel like I’ve lived a life

Yeah, quantity wise I’m practically a baby. But I have experienced enough of life. There are some great things I’d miss out on, but I do not think I can take a single more loss. I look at my dad. His time was up. What has he done that I haven’t? A few things, like turn his sperm into some kind of breathing entity. Nothing I feel like I’m missing out on

I am trying so. Damn. Hard. Every moment to convince myself one day I’m not going to want to go back to being so lost in chaos that it’s okay I’ve lost myself. As it is, every second I’m talking myself out of some kind of dangerous behavior that will provide some sort of relief.

But at the same time I don’t want to keep seeing people leave, I don’t want to keep turning to a bottle, I don’t want to keep waking up in towns and cities not knowing how I got there, I don’t want to keep going to ERs, I don’t want to end up in jail again, I don’t want to hurt others anymore, I don’t want to hear the same chord progressions forever, I don’t want to get vomity toilet water on my face again, I don’t want to make a medical professional save someone that doesn’t want to be saved once again, I don’t want to hear people complain about the bugs tomorrow, I don’t want to deal with the stress of having to do the right thing when I see my partner tomorrow, I don’t want to see the police fly down the road, inevitably within a few hours.

There’s really not much I want other than to stop wasting everyone’s time and energy. There are lots of good things in life. The world can be an awesome place. Art, nature, music, connection, a comfortable sunny day, seeing the kids play street hockey, eating some fancy venison roast one night and cup noodles the next. But I won’t enjoy any of that because I can’t do any of that without feeling shame. I’ll never be worthy. I don’t deserve it. I was born soulless and a monster settled into my core and won’t move out.

I promise I’ll be “okay.”