this is real.

Today I wondered whether or not I should continue breathing.
Just like yesterday,
the day before that,
the day 18 years ago where I started questioning the essence of trying.

The funny thing is I already know that this will never be read by anyone but myself. I could easily disappear right now as I had thought awhile back and no one would know it. As simple as that. Disappear into nothing. Why am I afraid to just give up? It seems that once you realize you have nothing else going for you in life, you maybe can be happier than you have ever been. I’ve never done anything special or have been anything important. The concept of nihilism always seemed depressing to me in my youth, and now it makes perfect sense. To feel nothing. To be nothing. To not care, not bother trying, not trying to exist. Maybe I shouldn’t talk. Maybe I shouldn’t write, should not play another note again. Sometimes I think about digging a giant hole and laying in it until the dirt shovels itself onto me. It decides for itself my fate based on the very nature of the world.

There are happy things in my life too. It is so hard to describe this overwhelming feeling. I have not dealt with such a hard mix of things since I went through being divorced and all that went along with that. It just keeps coming in a flood, and I am not even emotionally capable anymore to know how to deal with it. I could say this is the end right now, but is it really? Do things ever really end? I feel selfish for feeling these things when I know so many people right now going through shit. Hell, I know Joel needs me to be stable now and to be ready to give some support, but I know he’d do fine without me. Everyone would be fine without me. Everyone will be fine without me. I could never go through with anything while he is going through treatment and recovery. I guess I will wait and see if a rainbow ever appears or if anyone seems to find a reason for me to continue existing.