It's hard to say anything, but my life feels hopeless. I tell myself "feelings aren't truth" and try to think on good things and avoid the bad.
Success in my professional life and utter failure in the personal... but I recall the happiness I had in poverty.
I would say, "I can't go on", but who am I kidding? I'm too gutless to kill myself and too honorable to leave my responsibilities.
A nice little trap, that. I hate being a nice guy, except that the nice guy in me wouldn't change a thing. I can't leave behind those who rely on me...
I have literally no one to talk to. My closest relationships all look to me for help and guidance. Talk to a stranger? Not sure I could trust their sincerity...
...so I did the obvious thing and opened up to a public forum of strangers.
I find that I hate myself to no end. Truly the only thing worse than my presence in people's lives is an unexpected absence.
Crap...thanks for listening...er... reading