A crisis of faith… A loss of consciousness.

Just a quick warning before any of you start reading. A disclaimer of sorts.

I’ve been low lately. In fact, I haven’t felt this way in a long long time. Life has taken on a more desperate turn, like muscle memory or something more instinctual. Or perhaps I’m just growing tired of the whole thing. I am stuck in a horrible rut and I don’t see a way out. Nothing feasible nor effective enough. I’m not going to do anything stupid, but I needed to get all this shit out of my head. I’ve been stirring in it for the past few days and this is all I can do to get it all off my chest.

You know when people ask how you are, and they really dont want to know, they’re just being polite? Well that’s how i feel when most people ask me. I dont want to tell them, and I dont want them to push me to open up, if only to appease their conscience. In truth, I kinda live in darkness. In a way… I am the darkness. And it embraces me. And in the end of all things, it is all I have.

It is a friend. The void cares not for my ugliness, my looks and my inability to find connection with life and to the rest of humanity. For the inability to find purpose in existence is all encompassing. I cannot fathom a god or divine being, which would see me suffer in such a way. I find that faith in the “almighty” slipping, and my faltering strength and faith in the reasoning of my own existence. I was taught that even when I am alone, god is always with me and loves me no matter what. But the truth is simple.

There is no god… And if there is, he/she simply doesn’t care.

I know I’m being stupid, but do not get me wrong. I do not feel sorry for myself, and I do not want your fucking pity. I do not want you to take action and make the effort to talk with me, because to be honest it all feels a little fake to me. Sorta reminds me of when you see family at Christmas and they say how much they’ve missed you.. Well if they missed you so much, how hard is it to pick up the phone?

I do not wish to give in to despair so willingly. Yet it feels as if to endure is something I am no longer sure I can do. I have been alone, and felt alone almost every single moment in my life. From the very moment of my birth, I have felt as an outcast, devoid of so many things. Rejected by my father, all the years he beat me broke my bones, spurned me of something that I have forever craved in my heart. It’s why I keep things so close to my chest, for who could understand what has happened to me? But I want more than anything else, to understand what it feels like to really and absolutely trust somebody. I really do….

In a sad way… I pray for apathy to set in. Because feeling is something I do in abundance. I wish I could just turn it all off. I’m tired of “feeling”. I don’t know if there is no fix to this sort of fucked up. I feel like maybe I am broken on the inside, forever searching for a means to feel whole. I’ve shed so many of my “bad habits” as a means of self improvement, and while I am a lot more content in my own skin, without all those meaningless distractions, I’ve come to realize something… I don’t like myself very much. But you know, I’d really like to…

I wrap myself in stories and fake bravado, but its easy to pretend “I’m the man” than it is to just be me. Everything in way is a performance. Like I become a character of sorts.

I wrote a long time ago about masks. Well it seems I have masks that exist under masks. I’ve tried to stay true to myself and those whom I love, but what else can I do when everything I see leads me to one forgone conclusion? I can’t see a single thing about myself that I want to show anyone (it’s all either boring, depressing or fucked up) and I don’t want to share anything. I wish I was interesting. I don’t have any amazing tales nor have I been on any adventures worth a damn, all I’ve done all my whole entire life… is survive. And I don’t think I want to just survive anymore… Survival is not living. And whats the point in surviving if every day is the same as the next?

I just want to find some peace, some measure of serenity. I want to quiet the voices in my head. (Okay, for the record, I do not hear actual voices in my head.) I fear that I am not destined for such things. I want to be able to be honest. I want to share myself, all the good and great things about me, I want to share my darkness and find that perhaps I’m not so scary. For someone at least, I’m not putting all my hope in love, nor companionship. Nor am I defining my life by its pursuit either.

I seek the love and acceptance of my life. From myself more than anything else… To know that for all the hardships I have been through was for some sort of purpose. I don’t always believe I was put here to suffer. Or that I am meant to accomplish great things. But I just want to feel like I’m meant to do something, because I cannot live like this. I feel like I have forever been rejected. My heart is breaking, and I don’t see a way to mend it. I just wish it didn’t feel that way. I am no longer able to imagine a life that doesn’t end like this one. I do not see a sun shining for me. I find others on the rarest of occasions, I find the slightest of connection, yet all it does is reminds me that I am alone.

How can I exist when no one understands me?

Perhaps I am not destined for love, happiness or joy…I cannot escape the past and what was done to me, nor can I forget it. Any chance to be “normal” has long since passed.

I’m okay with being “abnormal” in fact, I like being different. But I just wish it felt better than this.

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