Stream of Conscience

I’m incredibly upset right now. I’m not going to get into why, because It’s not anyone else’s business. But I am very unhappy. I thought by typing this SoC, that I could at least take my mind off the recent events. It’s not going to work. I always worry. Constantly. Every little thing. Nothing I do seems to take away from the worrying. I’m like a mother, worrying about her kids, except I have no kids. Not sure I should ever have them. I’m too messed up to have kids.

I get mad at the slightest thing. I don’t try to. I’m doing everything I can possibly do to not get angry at stuff. I don’t want to hide behind my mania for everything. I know that there’s more I can do. I just don’t know how. I feel stupid and frustrated. I can’t fix it. I am not smart enough to know how to fix it.

Even now, my depression is whispering sheer hell to my mind. I’m constantly being told by the disease
“You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough.”
“You only know how to fail.”
“You only disappoint others. You can never make someone happy.”
“You’re a loser!”
“Your friends look down on you for being pathetic. Your family disdains you.”
“You are unloved.”
And this goes on all day, every day. The only thing that changes is the volume. I know this looks like I have Schizophrenia. “Hey, look! Monty hears voices!”
If you don’t have some form of depression, you’ll never know.

I’ve been manic since getting up. Nausea, pain, and anger. Sheer, unadulterated rage, which is followed by debilitating sadness, wallowing in anguish. Tears are already welling up in my eyes. My music can’t get loud enough. I keep trying to drown myself in loud bass-y music, but nothing is loud enough. I want to beat the hell out of something. I am angry, but irrationally so. It seems that the Mad in MadMontyMN fits adequately. I named myself that after the Madgod, Sheogorath, from the Elder Scrolls games. I identify myself as being mad-crazy from time to time. Anger is more Mehrunes Dagon or Molag Bal, isn’t it?

This isn’t helping. I guess I knew it wouldn’t. With this attitude, yeah yeah I know. Hard to have a different attitude when your life isn’t all it was cracked up to be. Everything you thought it would be.
My parents were married and had me already, at my age. My brother is about to be born. No marriage, no kids yet.
What do I have to show for myself? Scars. Lots of goddamned scars. Abusive relationships. Emotional and physical scarring. Broken will, shattered confidence, self-esteem in pieces, self-worth non-existent.
Here I sit on the edge of despair. A slightest breeze of stress shall send me tumbling into the well of anguish. It’s only a matter of time.
Then will come the desperate climb back to the surface. But that won’t be for a while.
Maybe a walk will help me. Maybe a fight. Maybe I’ll curl into a ball and weep.
Yeah this didn’t help.

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