So here I am again. I've been having a good time. I've been hanging out with my beau, my family, my son. Work has been going okay. Same shit, you know. For some reason I cannot get into a sitting position today. I finally left my bed just to lay down on the couch.
Fucking depression. It hits at any time. It doesn't even care that my life is pretty good right now. It just waltzes it's ass in and sits on top of me. Threatening to choke me. Suck my breath out.
It is starting to become one of those times that I really need to talk to someone, but can't call anyone. I feel dumb calling someone for purely selfish reasons.
I had a couple of nightmares where I commuted several acts of arson. It was horrible. In the dreams I felt really bad about it, but felt like I needed to, anyways. I don't know.
My scar, at time like these, reminds me of how bad things can get. How bad I do not want to reach that point. I use the scar as a reminder of the pain.
Why didn't you call me? Next time please do!!
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