I’m here feeling really sad about my life and it’s current manifestation. I guess I wish I was doing something I could be very proud of. Instead, I feel like organic waste. I feel like a pile of steaming compost. My heart is heavy and I can feel it in my chest like I swallowed a stone. It’s cold and unforgiving and not willing to listen to rationale. It just hurts and reminds me that through this part of my recovery, I must be alone. I’m not too good with that, because I’m affectionate and soft. I like to be loved. To give love. To have something invaluable like emotional bliss is more than I can bear thinking about. I’m so fucking far from being emotionally happy it’s not even fun to measure the distance to go still. It seems all so insurmountable. And I am sad to be constraining my parent’s lives with my situation. I would like nothing more than to succeed and lift the burden of my presence from them. But it’s all out of my hands right now. I even wrote a letter to Hope Connections about that possible IT job. Haven’t heard back from them. Haven’t heard from DoR either. Boy would I really like to do some stuff to make my life better. I hate being stuck. Waiting for others to decide my fate. It’s pretty fucked. But I didn’t want to be here. I was living my life until it collapsed. I was doing ok. I could have been doing a lot better, but that’s my future goal. For a reestablishment of my independent, dignified self. But I’ve never felt as “off” as I have been because of this most recent collapse. I put so much into that life. Now it’s gone and the memories are bitter. I remember the first time she stepped foot in San Diego. I was so damn excited to see her. To have this life with her that I planned. It was all such a huge mistake. I wish I would have known the kind of person she was. I wouldn’t have wasted my time. She’s the opposite of what I needed. A poison in the prerogative of denial. Of looking everywhere but within the self for answers. Like I did. Leaning on love like it could hold me up. When it never could. She never loved me like I thought she would. Love to her is like any other emotion. It comes and goes with the tides. Eventually she had no love left for me. When I loved her too much. Treasured her. But why? Because it was all I could understand about love. It was my only definition. I guess I’m writing all of this over again because I really have no other way of coping with this unquenchable sadness. I’m trying. I have not given up. But this is hard and I hurt. And someday, it won’t be this way. Someday, I’ll be me again.