Ongoing

This is my blog, yet I feel paralyzed in my attempt to write anything. That’s what depression is doing to me, robbing me of any and all vitality I could or might possibly possess. I haven’t lost my interest in the things that I love, I’ve just lost the desire and subsequent energy to care about them anymore. I had and I have things I hope to accomplish, but my ability to get to them is vanishing. I feel languid. I feel that the more I chase something that I’m trying to achieve, the further away it gets. And with each failure and rejection, after awhile it all becomes too much. It wears me out.

What’s sickening is that I was trying really hard.

Obviously I must have done something wrong. I feel as worse as I’ve ever felt, and in this capacity, with all of the people I’ve been working with, only to end up where I’m at, I feel like I can’t trust anyone. The words they say are just rhetoric, something to take up space until I go away.

And it all started so long ago. If they say that a mother is god in the eyes of a child, and my mother abandoned me at birth, then the logic must follow that god abandon me — from the day I was born.

Mother

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