If anyone is actually reading this, and you are excited about Christmastime, I would discourage you from reading the following entry, as it is not in the Christmas spirit.
I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year
Once again, we find ourselves on the verge of the celebration of our Savior's birth, and yet I feel no joy, no excitement. I hold no anticipation for tomorrow, or the day after that. I sometimes wonder if this means there is something wrong with me. I have nothing to strive for. I have things I enjoy doing but I have nothing that I feel will be rewarding once I reach the goal. I have no goal. I feel like a statue that is slowly being overgrown and is crumbling to dust before I can do what I dream of. I need to get away. I need to change. I need something to happen. Anything.
I feel like every day is the same and there is no difference. I feel like a child who is adult in name only. I feel like everything I touch stagnates and shudders to a halt. Where there was once passion in my life there is only listlessness and no interest in anything. Where are the things I used to love? Why can't I remember what it is that I love about the things I love? Why can't I find the fire that used to burn in me for telling stories, for turning canvas into paintings, for making music, for living? Why do lies fall from my lips without a thought? Why do I doubt God cares? I fear speaking of this last one with anyone. How could I speak of it without being judged, without being told the same thing I have heard again and again and again. I hear that he loves me, that he hears me, and yet I don't see it. I feel alone and unloved and sad and fucked up. I feel tired. It's not just physical, I feel an aching tiredness that goes down to my core. It chills me. I hate the cold. I feel frustrated with my life.
I need something. Something needs to change. I would ask God to help me but I don't think he listens to me. After all, he doesn't listen if you aren't doing everything right, right? He ignores the prayers of the wicked, right? What am I. Who am I. What's the point. What do you do when you aren't sure if God exists? I'm so afraid that I'm wrong, that all of this is wrong, and that when I die there will be nothing, and then I'm afraid that because I think these things, that means that I'm going to Hell if it's right because I'm doubting all of this. I'm just so tired. I need to get away. I need to leave, I need to be on my own away from my family. I don't know how much longer I can live like this. I don't know how much more of this crummy little tiny town I can take. I feel suffocated here. I'm drowning in a motionless life.
