Slide Off The Moon

​…it would have been you.  Life is meaningless. Everything is nothing. Meaningless sacks of consciousness doing meaningless shit and dying meaningless deaths and on and on until death and decay and particles rearranging until again…no meaning.  I don’t matter. Not one bit. I will die and it won’t matter.  Will anybody lovingly tend to my things? My words? My memories and pictures? Or like my dad, will the contents of my life be loaded up into a dumpster? Nothing. Matters.  But you did to me. And I ruined it. I will be maybe another sad/angry memory for you that soon will be paved over by somebody better that you will seek out. Maybe they’ve already been found.  I cannot survive this.  No better time than now.  I love you. 

Am I a terrible mother if I want to end my pitiful existence? I keep thinking of dates to do it.  I think Feb. 1st, but then I realize Rain's birthday is that month and I wouldn't want to ruin her birthday for her for the rest of her life.  So then I push the date back another month...and I think, but wouldn't it be unfair for me to stay for Rain's birthday this year and not Autumn's? And just like that, there is never a good time. Panic sets in.  I'm stuck, aren't I?  Living for others.  Who is living for me? Nobody. I've made sure of that. Those that I want to stay push me away.  And those that I want to stay, I push away.  Either way, they are gone. Please.  Somebody find me and end me.  That way, maybe it is easier for my kids knowing it wasn't by my hand.  I can sink into the black ick forever, let it win. I don't have the desire to fight it much anymore.  I know, I should love myself, live for myself, be my best self for my ki...

​I miss you. Why did I let you go? I’m an idiot. A sad, lonely, stupid idiot.  Can’t resolve conflict well. Can’t seem to stop failing others. Can’t seem to prevent conflict in the first place.  Maybe you’re better off. 

​I wanted to come on here and spin some beautiful words for ugly pain. Stupidly I think that if I make my words flowery and unique, hauntingly poetic and deep, that somehow the Black Ick within me may be properly expressed to the point that the poor human who happens to read this would know and feel how god damn painful my existence is and finally,,, finally…I  will be seen.  I want so desperately to be seen. To be known. Invalidation was my upbringing, abandonment my recurring nightmare.  I think it is safe to say that no matter what I say, that isn’t going to change.  What will it take for a suicide attempt to stick? When will I get it right finally so I can sink into nothingness and finally do something useful for the earth? Live for the girls  my mind chimes in. But am I really right for them? Can’t seem to overcome my self hatred enough to be useful. I feel like I constantly fail them. And I’m so so  tired of trying to heal. I haven’t gotten that right...