If someone you love hurts you, cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it.

Have you ever gone to sleep late and then had to get up only a few hours later? Disturbed. No sleep. Voices. I don’t trust anyone. I Your mind then feels fuzzy all day, like you’re high on some type of drug, but you’re not really. And your head continues to hurt even though you’ve already taken more than the maximum amount suggested on the bottle of Tylenol. That’s how I’m feeling today. Incomplete. Pain. 1 2 3 4 Insomnia. Stress. Battles in our own minds.
I stayed up until 4am finishing a writing project that has taken me longer than expected to get done. Everyone around me has more confidence in what I’m doing than I do, I think I can, but I just don’t believe. I feel stressed to get it done before everyone around me starts calling me nothing but a total loser. Which I already feel like, they don’t need to help me out any there. I don’t think they would call me a loser as much as I would just feel like one. I feel like if I don’t get this done and get it done right, I will always remain a nobody, and will always feel like I’m nothing but a drain on society. I’ve felt that way about my life for years. So now this is my one chance, my five minutes of fame, my moment; I just have to see if I’m able to grab hold. I’m working hard as hell to get beyond my past and become more. Damn! At 40 years old can that be done? Grief. Frightened. Agitated. Worried. Insanity. Dread.

I mailed my life story today to Hawk Publishing in Tulsa. I don’t know if my writing is good enough to get published, but as a friend once said, I’ll never know unless I try. I know I’ve got a story to tell, but then I think maybe everybody does. Each of us in our life experience our own traumas and private hells, it’s the support and how we are able to handle the bad days that make us who we are when we get older. I didn’t start getting the help I needed until it was too late and my thinking was no longer clear. When your life becomes that way it’s hard to recognize the need to get help from some other source. But if you don’t you will forever stay locked into a dreadful life filled with many days of total agony. Writing about my life was my way of freeing those types of feelings that I was having. My thoughts still sometimes drift towards suicide, but I’ve learned how to recognize those patterns before they become so severe that I re-act on one of my many bizarre thoughts. LIFE is a BITCH!! But until the good Lord calls me home I’ll be here tomorrow waiting on God to hand me my next big struggle to overcome.

Guess I better get some sleep now…Have a nice life.