It takes quite a self-centered person to hate life while standing over someone else's grave... but that's me.
Today my family went out to my father's grave. Lately, I've been feeling like I'm at the absolute lowest point of my life, so I wasn't terribly enthused about making this journey today. I hoped that, at least, I would snap out of my funk and think "REJOICE, for you are among the living, you have your whole life ahead of you, you can make it (whatever that is) happen, LIVE, there's no time like the present."
But it didn't. It did, however, make me feel like a terrible, selfish person. At 17, I was the oldest of my siblings when he died 11 years ago. My little brother was 3. How terrible and miserable that he never even got to know my dad, and vice versa. How angry I am at myself for being able to sit there, and look at the grave of someone who's life was taken at the age of 48, at his wife and children who were robbed of his existence, and think, "I hate life, I can hardly take it, I'm sick of everything and I just want it all to go away."
I'm angry at him for being gone, and I'm angry at myself for not making the most of the life I have. I used to use his death as fuel for all my ambitions and endeavors... but now I just feel beat up and tired.
Today my family went out to my father's grave. Lately, I've been feeling like I'm at the absolute lowest point of my life, so I wasn't terribly enthused about making this journey today. I hoped that, at least, I would snap out of my funk and think "REJOICE, for you are among the living, you have your whole life ahead of you, you can make it (whatever that is) happen, LIVE, there's no time like the present."
But it didn't. It did, however, make me feel like a terrible, selfish person. At 17, I was the oldest of my siblings when he died 11 years ago. My little brother was 3. How terrible and miserable that he never even got to know my dad, and vice versa. How angry I am at myself for being able to sit there, and look at the grave of someone who's life was taken at the age of 48, at his wife and children who were robbed of his existence, and think, "I hate life, I can hardly take it, I'm sick of everything and I just want it all to go away."
I'm angry at him for being gone, and I'm angry at myself for not making the most of the life I have. I used to use his death as fuel for all my ambitions and endeavors... but now I just feel beat up and tired.
but yeah. honest to god. that my boobs in almost every single picture. i'd never lie to you.