Another episode of withdrawal from the fucking Effexor. WHY can't I just stop taking it? I can't afford the damn pills anymore. My stomach's a wreck, although I don't know if it's from lack of chemicals in my brain or the ridiculous amount of alcohol I consumed last night. I've been on the road to nowhere for quite some time now and I'm really at a loss. There's no work, there's no part-time gigs out there and I have to figure out how the fuck I'm going to pay my bills. And it seems that more and more that people will only love you for what you can give them, and I have nothing to offer. God, I'm cynical. Can anyone blame me? I had a breakdown in the kitchen earlier over NOTHING. Or was it over everything?
I cannot believe I have such a shitty outlook on life right now. What's even harder to believe is how well I put on a front to all of those around me. My mother, Beth, Andy, Buzzard. I fake it so hard that everyone believes I am okay. I fake it so hard.
No comments:
Post a Comment