This is as bad as the worst it's been. The worst was when I broke up with my wife, but I could comfort myself with booze then. They don't make a pill that covers a depression this deep and dark. It literally screams in every cell of my body. I hate every second of my life. I want to hurt myself, badly. I'm not a "cutter," but I guess I'm a "banger." I hit my head repeatedly and as violently as I can. I have a stick for this. I do this over and over until I can't take it anymore. Then when "the committee" starts up in my head again, I start hitting myself again.
I can't take the loss of any more friends. In fact, I can't take the ones I just lost. I'm crippled by my inability to discern who is telling the truth. People say one thing, but do another. (Thus the addition of the Sartre quote to the sidebar.) Because I can't trust anybody, my life is shit. Because I was lied to by people I trusted, my financial situation is hopeless. The predator creditors are lining up their ducks. As of the third of next month, Tuesday, they will attack. This will be more pain I can't tolerate. I will be dragged through court repeatedly. My presence will probably be required in Milwaukee courts, but I have no way to get there.
I beg God for death continually. It's the only honorable way out. I don't want to sink into boozing again, but I don't know how to stop the pain. Twenty some years ago, I prayed that when I die, I'll be sober. I don't know how much longer I can hold out. I guess I belong in the gutter, anyway. That's where I came from. A low bottom alcoholic with major mental health issues. There's no place for me in this world.