Characters thus far

Joy

Diane

Damien de Soto

Rei Clearly

POV EXPERIMENTAL ALLEGORICAL POETIC METAPHOR FICTION

First person

Blog post style

This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.

I have schitzoaffective disorder, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.

I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.

Dark horror fiction

Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.

Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.

Dear God,

Thank you for today. I will say that first, before getting into the things which cause me debilitating anxiety. I enjoyed large parts of today, amid the times of crushing nervousness. I wonder if I am ever going to find a solution to this, and in so doing find my place in the world.

I feel so inadequate compared to others. I want so bad to have a job and contribute to this world in some way, to have something to do each day, and have something to share when people ask me what I did during my waking hours. I want my life to mean something. I keep getting told by others that this will come, that life is a journey, and that I just have to be patient, but I am just nervous it will never happen for me.

I would like to believe that everything happens for a reason, that there is some divine plan to all of this, but it is hard for me. I have a hard time believing every mistake I have made fits into some divine plan. There are times it feels that way, but there are others when I feel like the rest of my life will just be consequences of my actions during the periods I was using. I hope this is not true, that there is some higher meaning to everything, that all of this means something. I just hope you are there, that I am not talking to myself, unintentionally, this time.

I am so jealous of others who have the opportunity to make something of their lives. I try not to be, but it is so hard, because I feel like I ruined my life and am living in the ashes of everything I could have been. I feel like my family is no help in this department. It feels like they have given up on me and just want me to throw my life away, sitting on Social Security, and I feel like I am capable of so much more than that.

Oh, and I feel like I tanked a speaking opportunity at a meeting I went to, which kills me because it is one of the few ways I feel like I am actually doing something with my life. Most of the time, I just feel less than most people. I feel like I have no life, no potential, and no ability to change. Please God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Damien


2 responses to “Dear God,”

Leave a comment