I’m sick of being a burden. I hate that I’m disabled in all the right ways to look “normal,” and yet I’m not remotely capable of working any jobs. I hate the way people talk to me and about me. I hate being judged as lazy or entitled.
If I could work and pay my own bills I’d do that in a heartbeat. I truly miss the days when I woke up with a sense of purpose. I miss when I could (and did) work several 12-hour shifts back-to-back.
I try my hardest not to ask anyone for anything. I do everything I can to help people when I’m able to. I try to keep my depressing feelings of worthlessness to myself.
It’s getting harder not to just put an end to my worthless and useless existence.
Doctors can’t fix me. Hospitals can’t help. Friends get tired of hearing about it.
Why keep going? There is no happy bright future for me. There’s no hope.
I’m just too much of a coward to allow my children to find my lifeless corpse. I can’t traumatize them like that.