I find my self unable to relax or sleep at night.
I've always had a fear of death, of closing my eyes to sleep and simply not opening them again in the morning.
Tonight is no different, only tonight it seems, unless I distract myself, I find myself gripped by intense fear.
I'm not a fit guy, I'm lazy, inactive, and I shouldn't be, it's probably killing me.
Yet, I'm too scared to do anything about it, afraid to go see a doctor, to find out what, if anything, is wrong with me.
I find myself here in Thunder Bay, with only my girl as company, I have no friends to speak of up here, and I've been here for over two years now.
This of course is my own doing, I'm socially awkward and I find myself having to fake a smile or laugh at a joke I don't actually find funny to keep face. I don't know why I bother, it does me no good, yet I do it nonetheless.
I've always had a nasty habit of wearing a "mask" when I'm with other people, I adapt myself to the situation at hand, do my best to fit in and wait till it's done.
Back in Cornwall, I had friends. People who would come to get me from my sullen life, people who would bring me outside, make me laugh a genuine laugh and remove me from my misery, if only for a little while.
I've had minimal oppertunity to properly vent my feelings, my fears and my doubts to anyone.
I love my girl, and because I love her so much I don't want to burden her with my negativity, my doubt.
I don't write as often as I should, it could prove an effective way of venting to a point, but the problem lies in the fact that I wonder who would even bother to read and offer input, even on a social site as this one I find myself with few friends because I don't know how to engage people in conversation without sounding like a fool doing so. I don't enjoy being alone, even though I can see her right now, sleeping not 5 feet from me, I feel alone. I know she loves me, I know she cares, but she's one person, and one person isn't enough to give me the boost I need to escape my rut of depression and doubt.
Maybe I'm imagining it all, right now I feel physically weak, I find it hard to concentrate and to type, it feels as if there's minimal energy in my arms and lack of will in my body to continue.
Over the last few days I've been distinctly aware of my heartbeat, not at all times mind you, but frequently.
I find it to be of a quick pace and I don't understand why, while I'm not moving much, and am pretty much at rest, that it would be as fast as it is, but I can probably chalk it up to my likely failing health, up until recently I've felt ok, it's just been in the last month or so that I've begun to experience the fear and the feeling that something's wrong.
I'm afraid.
Also on my mind has been the welfare of my dad. In the beginning of March he'd been admitted into the hospital after he'd collapsed from drinking too much. He's an alcoholic, he's always been that way, dispite my efforts when I was younger, I couldn't help him. Now I find myself worrying day to day, wondering not if, but when he'll collapse for good. I don't want him to die. When I'd gotten the information that he had collapsed in the first place I was told it was a stroke. Of course even now I'm not sure what exactly happened, and I'm sure he made the doctors keep information from me, he's that type of man, all I know is that he could've died that day but he didn't, and the moment I'd heard what had happened, I called everyone I knew to find a way to get to him. I did manage to get a way there, and when I finally got there, after a whole day on a bus, at 5am, what I seen wasn't the father I knew, but a frail, pathetic old man laying in a hospital bed. And I felt sorry for him, dispite the fact that it was his fault he was there. A man I once looked up to, regardless of his obvious flaws as a person, a man I respected, was laying in front of me, sick and broken. I think something in me died when I seen him, some part of me who wanted to see the same man he knew jumped off a cliff into the abyss.
I spent most of my time down there at the hospital, keeping him company and waiting for him to get better. And he did eventually get "better", good enough to be released anyway. During his time in the hospital, he'd asked me to go to his "room" to get some things, and I had, expecting to see at least a decent little place. What I walked into was about the size of the average bathroom nowadays, maybe 8x10, with a bed, a small table, and not much else. I felt nothing but pity, I know that many people live in such horrible situations because it's the only way to get by, but this man is my dad, and it was both insulting and frustrating to see how he had to, or rather, has chosen to live. So, I decided to offer him somewhere to stay, with me at first, and then near me. He agreed, and we made plans. That was in March, we're now at the end of August. He'd promised me that he'd be up here by the Middle of May, I heard from him at the end of March and haven't heard anything since. I've tried to contact him, but all the lines are disconnected, and my own family, if you can call them that, won't take the time to help me find out what's going on....it's very very hard on me.
On a side note, I just woke my girl up, I really wasn't feeling well, and was a bit nervous because of it. Maybe it was some sort of panic attack....anyway, she got up and talked to me, and I decided it might be a good idea to try to purge my system, so I made that happen and I feel about 70% better, it's a good thing for sure.
Enough for now.
I've always had a fear of death, of closing my eyes to sleep and simply not opening them again in the morning.
Tonight is no different, only tonight it seems, unless I distract myself, I find myself gripped by intense fear.
I'm not a fit guy, I'm lazy, inactive, and I shouldn't be, it's probably killing me.
Yet, I'm too scared to do anything about it, afraid to go see a doctor, to find out what, if anything, is wrong with me.
I find myself here in Thunder Bay, with only my girl as company, I have no friends to speak of up here, and I've been here for over two years now.
This of course is my own doing, I'm socially awkward and I find myself having to fake a smile or laugh at a joke I don't actually find funny to keep face. I don't know why I bother, it does me no good, yet I do it nonetheless.
I've always had a nasty habit of wearing a "mask" when I'm with other people, I adapt myself to the situation at hand, do my best to fit in and wait till it's done.
Back in Cornwall, I had friends. People who would come to get me from my sullen life, people who would bring me outside, make me laugh a genuine laugh and remove me from my misery, if only for a little while.
I've had minimal oppertunity to properly vent my feelings, my fears and my doubts to anyone.
I love my girl, and because I love her so much I don't want to burden her with my negativity, my doubt.
I don't write as often as I should, it could prove an effective way of venting to a point, but the problem lies in the fact that I wonder who would even bother to read and offer input, even on a social site as this one I find myself with few friends because I don't know how to engage people in conversation without sounding like a fool doing so. I don't enjoy being alone, even though I can see her right now, sleeping not 5 feet from me, I feel alone. I know she loves me, I know she cares, but she's one person, and one person isn't enough to give me the boost I need to escape my rut of depression and doubt.
Maybe I'm imagining it all, right now I feel physically weak, I find it hard to concentrate and to type, it feels as if there's minimal energy in my arms and lack of will in my body to continue.
Over the last few days I've been distinctly aware of my heartbeat, not at all times mind you, but frequently.
I find it to be of a quick pace and I don't understand why, while I'm not moving much, and am pretty much at rest, that it would be as fast as it is, but I can probably chalk it up to my likely failing health, up until recently I've felt ok, it's just been in the last month or so that I've begun to experience the fear and the feeling that something's wrong.
I'm afraid.
Also on my mind has been the welfare of my dad. In the beginning of March he'd been admitted into the hospital after he'd collapsed from drinking too much. He's an alcoholic, he's always been that way, dispite my efforts when I was younger, I couldn't help him. Now I find myself worrying day to day, wondering not if, but when he'll collapse for good. I don't want him to die. When I'd gotten the information that he had collapsed in the first place I was told it was a stroke. Of course even now I'm not sure what exactly happened, and I'm sure he made the doctors keep information from me, he's that type of man, all I know is that he could've died that day but he didn't, and the moment I'd heard what had happened, I called everyone I knew to find a way to get to him. I did manage to get a way there, and when I finally got there, after a whole day on a bus, at 5am, what I seen wasn't the father I knew, but a frail, pathetic old man laying in a hospital bed. And I felt sorry for him, dispite the fact that it was his fault he was there. A man I once looked up to, regardless of his obvious flaws as a person, a man I respected, was laying in front of me, sick and broken. I think something in me died when I seen him, some part of me who wanted to see the same man he knew jumped off a cliff into the abyss.
I spent most of my time down there at the hospital, keeping him company and waiting for him to get better. And he did eventually get "better", good enough to be released anyway. During his time in the hospital, he'd asked me to go to his "room" to get some things, and I had, expecting to see at least a decent little place. What I walked into was about the size of the average bathroom nowadays, maybe 8x10, with a bed, a small table, and not much else. I felt nothing but pity, I know that many people live in such horrible situations because it's the only way to get by, but this man is my dad, and it was both insulting and frustrating to see how he had to, or rather, has chosen to live. So, I decided to offer him somewhere to stay, with me at first, and then near me. He agreed, and we made plans. That was in March, we're now at the end of August. He'd promised me that he'd be up here by the Middle of May, I heard from him at the end of March and haven't heard anything since. I've tried to contact him, but all the lines are disconnected, and my own family, if you can call them that, won't take the time to help me find out what's going on....it's very very hard on me.
On a side note, I just woke my girl up, I really wasn't feeling well, and was a bit nervous because of it. Maybe it was some sort of panic attack....anyway, she got up and talked to me, and I decided it might be a good idea to try to purge my system, so I made that happen and I feel about 70% better, it's a good thing for sure.
Enough for now.