Precious

I've felt lower than this in the past to be sure, but that seems of little consolation to me at the moment. I stand here, yet again, heartbroken and seeking refuge in all sorts of maladaptive behaviors. I'm trying to dull the pain, make time go by faster, but thus far my attempts have been futile at best.

It's a chore to wake up every morning. Every morning is a reminder of just how big a a loser I am. No job, no money, no prospects, painfully alone; sleep alone, wake up alone, eat alone, grieve alone, all alone.

I fucking hate this feeling. This feeling of social isolation, of not fitting in anywhere, and of not being accepted. Acceptance is key, but acceptance of my sorry state is not a pleasant task.

All I know is I hurt. I hurt, like I've hurt many times in the past, and by definition hurt does not feel good.

It sucks!

I need to stay positive and stay focused. Ha ha, focused! That's rich. Focused, tough to stay focused as intoxicated as I am!

I need help!