what is to become of me?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
once in a galaxy far away
well not that far actually
in fact it was here
and it seems like only yesterday

Submitted: January 27, 2008

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Submitted: January 27, 2008

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As I lay here with a pen in my hand, I thank luck that it’s not another belt.
So much has happened to bring it to this.
Bad people taking the piss, good people being useless, forgotten people being rocks, and the unforgotten being cocks.
I dream of a day that’s painless and quiet
When waking up is a joy, when being up is great, when participating is not just a chore.
I know it’s selfish but I still want more.
But for now I have nothing to help me at all, except for the shit fucking meds prescribed by people with overpaid heads. My family bless them if it were not for them I would not be here.
I cannot hurt others but daily I do, exhibits of psychologically outlandish behaviour at times young minds are sponges they take it all in, am I moulding them unintentionally in to becoming assholes like me. Please just don’t copy me.
Where does it stem from, was I always this bad? No I refute it I was a really good man. I always had a plan, an idea something to bring joy to those around me.
When problems arose for myself, or for others, I would pull out all the stops and help selflessly, needlessly but most of all happily.
If I was in trouble no help would I need, I would sort out the problem then my life I would lead, stronger than before because I had overcome.
If others had problems help them I would, not for reward but for human kindness.
I have a family three kids and a wonderful wife, other family are distant and friends not to close.
I have always been faithful, hardworking and loyal.
So is it too selfish to ask for some help with my troubles.
I can try to define them refine them and show, but pain unless you know it is no joke I KNOW. Incessant noise in your head, your vision double, no wonder I am always on edge looking for trouble, not looking but finding, with nothing at all the slightest thing no matter how trivial, can send me to the wall. I try to control it but sometimes it’s hard.
To see yourself doing something to yourself and being unable to stop what is happening is scary, its wild, I cant comprehend the utter rage that sent me to that place, rage directed at myself not another, rage for feeling so out of control for being so out of control, distraught uncontrollably so, my mind snapping then in to the show. An outsider watching my fate unfold, sitting with the belt tightly around my neck, watching, thinking, stop this but unable to participate, then the belts around the bed post, no air being breathed, I watch it casually trying to conceive, why I cannot stop myself from watching and help myself. Then consciousnesses again awake face down on the bed, belt still tight around my neck. My hands move to my own control again, I rip the belt off and throw it hard. Then realization, guilt, remorse, sadness and an underlying feeling that the control is still not all mine.
The end of my tether well I have now reached it quite literally and am still suffering without any real help medical? Psychiatric? Just plain old simple magic wand!
Well I am trying to control and still needing help
Help please come soon, the thread is renewed for now but how long till it slips again?


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