Another year older

So our over achieving life has made another year, 34.  Sadly there really isn't much to show for it.  Looking back on everything and I'm no better.  I know what the statistics say, I know I'm not suppose to succeed given the circumstances of my life.  The numbers say I won't make it.  What scares me even more is the numbers say I'll die by my own hand.  That I'm just one really bad day away from snapping.  Funny thing about me is I don't lash out at others, everything is internalized.   I lash myself, pulling out my flail and whipping myself into a bloody pulp, figuratively speaking of course.

34, half way to the end assuming I live the normal average life span.  What to show for it? Nothing.   It's all meaningless anyway.   I wasn't suppose to live this long and it's as if I just don't know what to do with myself.   It's always there,  reminding me,  willing me to put an end to the suffering.   The pain of waking up everyday,  my body hurts and I can feel it getting weaker daily.   Walking,  lifting,  moving,  a step slower,  and the aches never end.   I'd give anything to be 18 again.

Then there is the loneliness and that bothers me more than any nagging knee pain.   I'm aware that I'm not the easiest to love,  I've built up so many walls to protect myself after years of abuse.   I realize that once my parents are gone I'll literally have not a single soul who will give a shit about me.   Just another reason,  egging me on into oblivion.   I just haven't figured out why.  I didn't ask for any of this,  the poverty,  the abuse,  the loneliness,  the pains,  the anguish,  the fear,  all of it.   I say all this and it's not pity I want,  it's something greater than that,  something real.  

34 years of failing at life, at love, at everything.  I sit alone at night and think and dream about a life I'll never have.  The good job, the girl of my dreams, the children  I'd adore and it's all just that a dream.  Time is just cutting away, life string after life string cut.  The realization,  it's just too much to take in sometimes.   So I'll do everything to hide it,  I'll laugh and I'll put on a show in public and go home no richer than I was before.   I'll go home to my dark,  my empty space and I'll shed tears nobody will ever see.   Within those tears I'll drown gasping for air of a life worth living.   Death,  just waits,  dangling his gift as a release,  as salvation for the weary.   I wonder how much longer can I fight it.   How much longer until I end up like Chris Cornell,  in a bathroom alone.

That's what rattled me the most about his death,  he has it all,  money,  family,  looks,  a talent I would kill for and yet it wasn't enough to keep him here.   I don't have one tenth of that,  so what the hell is keeping me here?   Am I worth it?   How quickly I would exchange my life with one of this children aborted,  that they might make better use of it than I, how I wish I could be so...

What will keep me going when all I love are gone?  I don't know.  I may never know, maybe I'm not meant to know because I'm not meant to be here. Maybe the story never got this far and I'm just wadding through blank pages of a book that was suppose to be finished chapters ago.  Take up the pen and write my own story you say?  I wouldn't know where to start because I've tried my way and have been left with nothing.  I am not capable of authoring a happy ending.  Statistically there is but one outcome be it now for another 30 years from now, one I fight every day of my existence.  I do not want to be another statistic,  another lost soul.  

So I peer into the fog of my life, walking, crawling, to the other side not knowing why.  Hoping that one day this life will bestow me with something worth living for, something to fight for, to even die for.  The odds are against me,  the world is against me,  those around me are against me,  my heart and mind are against me,  so it is to God that I seek to fight for me.   It is by His will alone I'm  able to walk  this day. He is the only hope I have,  may it never be any other way.   Were He to leave, there would be nothing,  a complete void.   Another year,  more searching,  more hope,  more love than the previous is all I want.   May it be...