It's a single moment in our lives that we realize we have lost everything, even when it still lingers around us.
My devastation is real. More real than it has ever been before in my life. I can not call it depression. I am not sure what I can call it at this point. I can't call it emptiness, because as adrift as I feel and the want I have to call it such, the truth is quite dismissive of that. My eyes are battling tears. My feelings are trying to harden, but in my head I have this image of myself bawling. Crying. Running. Panicking. There's a darkness in me that has enveloped me, and as much as I try to keep my heart vibrant, even my soul has come to the realization that there is nothing left.
I don't love. Anything. Including myself. In fact, I quite hate myself. I hate the people around me more, and those I don't hate, I have pushed so far away that if they knew who I really was, they wouldn't like me anyway. I have ruined every relationship I have ever had. I am a worthless human being and I am at the end of my rope. I don't care for anyone. Not even myself. My heart, my world. My everything is shattered. I have battled so many times to keep other people alive and with me, tried to help them find hope when I am yet lost in despair.
I don't think I can survive this much longer. My physical form is still here, my soul is dead. My heart is black and my mind is bleak. I hate me.
