ben

I'm still alive. That should be something to be thankful for, but most of the time I spend wishing that any one of the times I almost died didn't have the "almost" in there. I wish I had the energy to be angry at myself for thinking along those lines, but I just don't anymore. I manage to fight it off for awhile, but it's all just a mask I put on to keep from dragging anyone else down with me. It's getting harder to keep the mask up, it's been broken too many times and now it's a struggle to keep it together. I've come close to breaking completely down more than once lately, and I hate myself for it. The last time especially so, since I was visiting my parents when it hit me. Now that adds onto the stress and worry my parents have, and since the tornado screwed up their house they can't handle any more stress. Nothing I do makes any real difference, even getting my associate's degree finalized and sent to me doesn't make me feel any different. I had hoped that maybe it would at least make me feel like I had achieved something in my life, but I haven't even bothered to pick it up from my parents or even go and see the diploma. I even graduated with honors...but it's far too little and way too late. I've been on disability for 14 years and I hate myself for it, but I can't change the situation. My life has been wasted and it is all my fault, disability or not. I once had many plans and dreams, but I've failed at every single one of them. I no longer see a way to achieve any of them, and I've resigned myself to that fact. Just like I've resigned myself to the fact I'm alive but not living, I'm just waiting to die.