I’m so lost…

Very warming and inspirational even tho dividing if into two categories such as “love” and “fear” isn’t that simple. It isn’t that easy. And letting go of your fears isn’t either. They’ll always be there in some form or another. Gale is a splendid writer and the woman who wrote about her fears I feel a genuine deep connection with for I feel crippled by mine. I feel I’m a waste of life. Why am I even here when there are so many others deserving who wouldn’t waste a moment. I feel as if I’m decomposing and I’ve nothing to show for it because I’m too afraid to go out and get what I want. Where had my motivation & determination retreated to? And was it ever there to begin with? I’ve felt uncertain about my life for as long as I can remember and I don’t know what my purpose is. I’m also dealing with a severe mental illness so it doesn’t help me to have that burden as well. However, is no excuse, Is it? Other people are productive in society and deal with mental disabilities right? How come I’m not one of them. I fantasize about an electro shock therapy that will jolt me into action with lust, desire, passion and a drive for success. Lust for life and appreciation for all the great things in my life I have to be thankful for in staff of wastefully wallowing in my misery feeling hopeless and lost. Why can’t I be happy just being me or bring alone with myself? Why am I so codependent on other people. And especially on my significant other who is comfortable enough in his own skin to be alone and not feel the impending Solitude I feel. How do I get that way? I’m so full of envy. I’ve never wanted a extravagant life, all I want is to be happy and be loved and appreciated. Comfortable. It’s a reality that only exists in a dream I have. And when I wake, so does the sadness and emptiness. And it floods my mind and makes me wonder if it’s only a fairytale for me and I don’t deserve to feel otherwise because of the poor decisions I’ve made and the people I’ve hurt along life’s path. It’s karma coming to haunt me. But is there a point where it ends? I’m so much more thoughtful than I used to be. I’d like to think I’m a fairly good person now who’d done bag things but grew and learned from it. But I still feel all this pressure. Line I’m being squeezed in a vice grip and it tightens. Releases just a little some times and then tightens again, teasing me. I can’t wriggle free. I’m simply drowning deeper into sadness’s dark abyss with shackles in my ankles and there’s no way I can get them off. What do I do? I want help. How? Do I deserve it? I feel so evil. My mind retreats to darkness so often. I’ve become a addicted to misery and now can’t seem to get rid of it. Somebody help save me? Am I worthy of it? Why can’t I buck up and save myself? I’m no survivor. I’m weak. If I were one in a litter of pups, I’d be the runt. The one the mother snubbed and refused to feed because it’s a weakling and wouldn’t be able to survive on its own. Oh “woe is me” right? But I just can’t seem to shake it, no matter how many times I try. Thanks for listening to anyone who actually reads this

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