I’ve never really enjoyed being alive. I mostly survive on guilt. If I lost all my friends and pets, I’d almost be relieved. It’s over now, I can rest. I have a hard time enjoying much of anything anymore. I just want to rest and not think, which is why opiates are so comforting. The fantasy of getting hooked on heroin, destroying my relationships, and dying alone under a bridge doesn’t seem all that bad.
Still, guilt keeps me prisoner.
