Why is it

Why do I always feel everyone is better than me? Anyone. And anyone's life is better than mine. It's not true, except it's how I feel. That is true. Always true. And never lets me forget. Never.

I Don't Know

My brother was a one to two pack a day smoker from when he was 17. He drank a pint or more of hard liquor a day, more on weekends and holidays. He was what you call a funcitoning alcoholic. He could drink and still maintain a senior level job. He drank and smoked because of his addiction for them and to get away from the pressue.

It was how he handled the family pressure, mostly Dad. I didn't become addicted to either, smoked once at 12 and quit. I never become addicted to alcohol or drugs, even though I like marijuana and a few other casual drugs. I never got hooked, even when I fell into deeper depression periods.

I don't know why. Even now I still don't drink. I can't really because of hemochromotosis my Dad had and doctors said I probably have it too. But I still like a drink of good sippin' whiskey or a Guiness now and then, but I hate the hangover and headaches for two-plus days.

My addiction is simply to do nothing. Is that an addiction? Being so mentally and physically tired I don't do anything and hate even trying? I don't know, but it's what I do, my addiction. Why will always be the unanswered question. Why I haven't sunk into alcohol, drugs or anything destructive. Or even food.

It's a GOK, God only knows. Maybe one day I'll know too.

Some Days

Some days the best I can do is exist. Doing anything is optional. And going anywhere is only a thought. Soon forgotten. The only thing I look forward to is the end of the day, to sleep and lose the memory of nothing done. And hope tomorrow will be different.

Can I?

Some days I'm so physically and mentally tired I ask myself, "Can I die now?" I have no intention to die by my own hand, been there, almost done that twice, something I'm not interested in a third time charm. But there are moments in some days I wouldn't fight it if death was standing before telling me it's my time.

The drugs I take for a condition are crashing my mind and body. Food is my enemy so much I fear eating anything but know I have to eat. My hands and feet are forever problems with the cold. The TMJ is slowly taking a toll on the left side of my face. I can't tolerate statin drugs for my cholesterol and the blockage in my pulmonary artery.

The Dysthymia is taken all my motivation for life and I fear the drugs and their side effects more than the condition. Some days I take 2 or 3 naps because I can't stay awake from all the problems. Some days I take naps because it's better than anything else to do. Most nights I don't sleep through the night and always hate waking up, knowing it's the same life.

I know there are people with far worse conditions and problems who fight to live and enjoy what life they have. But all said, some days I'm still tired and wouldn't fight death if it came. I would ask it, "Can I die now?"

Naps

Naps are almost a daily occurrence with me know, much due to the medication I'm taking. And everytime I wake up there's always a moment I look around the apartment and realize that if I die nothing would change, only all my stuff would belong to someone else. Life, as with everyone who dies, goes on. There are no exceptions. And what changes fades into history, to be forgotten. So sometimes I wonder why I still keep waking up from my nap.