Day Seven- Blah!!

I know why people consider suicide.  To feel alone, unloved and unappreciated.  When you are so sad and it just seems to be a reason to live another day.  I know that feeling.  It's so heavy, weighs me down more then the 300 pounds I carry on my body.  there's a lump in my chest, my eyes are full with swollen tears.  My stomach aches.  It would be so easy to take the pills I have that could cause my demise.  But somehow, someway I always refrain and live another day that brings an illusion of happiness.

I guess it's my fault, I don't verbally express myself.  I expect people to know what I'm feeling.  I use to write love poems when I was younger and I always wrote that love was understanding each other needs.  When people are in love, I thought they absorb that persons' being inside and they are an extension of ache other therefore they learn to know each others needs and feelings.  But as all my writings in this blog expresses I never had that deep passionate love, where someone me me as important to them as they are to themselveses.  I always give all myself and be come disheartened when love I offer is not reciprocated.

I do appreciate what I have, someone who make sure I eat. Picks up after me,washes my clothes and more.  I don't have the right to complain about anything.  I'm a guest and should never forget that.  And I do often, I call where I live home, I call it my bed, but in reality I have no rights or say.  When I was a child I wanted to be a grown up.  Now that I'm 50, I should be grown.  But it ain't happen yet.  My nerves are so shaky cause I don't know what kind of mood those around me will be in. My voice and opinion is insignificant.  I can't walk out there door without being questioned. I hate my world at times.

There's no one for me.  My feelings are not considered unless it's not an inconvenience. My needs are my problem and I got to deal with them myself.  Do you see why suicide is sometime considered.

My ex of 23 years use to say, Feelings they come and go.  So true for everyone but me.  I let things grown in side me festering and eating me up from the inside out.  I'm not a fighter, I'm a writer and I write my hurt, my anger and my temporary feelings.  For years I wrote in books and never shared.  I just wrote to release my feelings. 

Now I have this blog to write my feelings and share with you who are reading this.  Today I feel this way tomorrow I might get over it and feel different.  These are the ramblings of a woman full of depression, anxiety, fear and anger about the fate I find myself in.  But never mistake my weak moments for weakness.  I like to read good books, but sometimes I start a book that ain't that great, I keep reading because I want to know how it ends.  So, I may not be happy where the book is going, a bad paragraph, chapter but it's part of the story and I will continue to read to see how it ends.  I wound never stop reading before it's over. Nor will I end my life before God says it's over.  No mater how much I mention suicide.