So, yesterday I turned 39 old... and at the moment I can not wait to NOT turn 40. But! This year my birthday was remembered by three more people, than last year, of which one was my ex-wife... I usually don't like my birthday, but this year... I fucking hated it! My bank account shows such a deep minus I don't even know if I'll be able to buy food for my pets when they will need it. I can starve (got some extra pounds through frustration and depression), but I would never forgive myself if I should not be able to feed my dog and the cats! And life? Fuckin hopeless, frightening and absolutely no end in sight (no pun intended, for the knowing).
I mean I should point out, one of my childhood "heroes" Bret "The Hitman" Hart is born the same day. And I am "working" for Alex Wright in his promotion. But still, somehow at the moment I can not see any sense in continuing anything I do. Especially since the love of my life Sheila (god I miss this wonderful dog every fuckin' day!) passed away at the end of May, I can't find any joy in anything I do or whatever I try. I just keep on breathing and hang in from one day to the other. The lack of motivation pisses my off myself, but I can't help it. I should be working out, prparing my body for wrestling and strengthening it. but most of the time I am just happy if I don't think about suicide or how miserable my life is. And the frustration doesn't get less, it stays at the same level. When I see something funny or beautiful like a pic, a meme or when I open Suicide Girls I really enjoy the things or seeing all the beauty in here. And one second later or sometimes in the same moment I'm looking at me and feel disgusted by myself or my situation. It sucks to be me right now, but I don't see any kind of hope on the horizon.
Maybe it will change someday... maybe I am supposed to end up alone being a weird cat/dog dad? Maybe one day happiness will return into my life and stay. Until then... I'll keep breathing and eating way too much than I should (as long as I can afford it).
On the other hand, I would love to live and ask a Suicide Girl to marry me. Not for the sex or any weird practice in bed, not even to live in one house together with her... no, simply to be able to say proudly: "I am married to a Suicide Girl!" I know I am not the kind of guy the women I find attractive would even consider having an affair with, but hell, I'm a creepy bastard, weird as fuck and fuckin' proud of it! So maybe my life will become better, at least I hope so.
Did I mention I'm weird? Probably fucked up in the brain describes it best. Sommetimes...
