GOD IM WAITING

Frustrating thoughts of how to get it all to stop. My mind is against me. It tells me I’m weak and shuts me out of reality with lies of a peaceful endless sleep. I lay in my so lonely bed, scared to sleep. If the dreams don’t get me, the memories will find me. If God is real, why do I feel this way? Why does it feel like a thousand-pound weight crushing me? I try to tell myself that I’m okay. I try to say to myself; you can make it just one more day. If God is real, what did I do so wrong to have the pain of so much sadness? I have been close to death more than most. If God was real, why keep me around. I guess God got jokes. If he was real, why doesn’t he take my pain or just let me die? At least if I’m dead, I don’t have to feel anymore. I don’t know why the sadness is so incredibly intense. My mind is against me with false promises and empty bottles I miss. The black-out drunk that worked so well, but for so little time. I miss the ability to forget. The bottle was my best friend, and he never let me down. I’m such a fool!
I worked so hard to battle this mentally fucked up disease and for what, to feel even worse! I see more people like me struggling each day. They hide under the radar, with fake smiles and fake okays. You can see it in their eyes, their body movements, and hear it in their voice. Their insides are screaming for help, and no one can hear. God, if you’re real, Help me. Take away all the pain. Then work through me to help others who are suffering that think they are so alone, and no one could possibly understand why they feel dying is a cure, a cure, what a wonderful, silly word. If you’re out there, God, I’m waiting.

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