The Second

 

Dear Whoever May Get This First,

 

Since my last, I’ve only received about a billion other questions; does it ever end?

 

 

I wonder, just how much darkness have I managed to let seep into my life? How did it happen? What triggered this era in my life? Did I use my imagination to create a broken world for myself or was I condemned to it before I was born or is it a result of this madness rightly named life? Is every day a lie? Every heartache imagined? What is it? How can I fix it? I don’t know…I’m trying the best I can.

 

Are there nights when you lay in bed all night wondering what your purpose in life is? You toss and turn but you can’t seem to get the train of thoughts out of your head. Then in the morning when you ‘wake up’ you not only look like crud, you feel like it too and you still haven’t made it beyond square one. Maybe you haven’t even made it to square one. I know I sometimes haven’t.

 

I keep wondering what would go through the minds of other people if I didn’t show up. Would it matter to them if I didn’t make it into their life that day? Would they notice? Care? Do I really play that big of a role at all? What importance do I serve? Is there any reason for living? What about not living? I guess there must be something if I can’t argue the other side…but, it can’t be all accidental…can it?

 

I feel like such a wanderer. I’ve got no where to go and all the time in the world to get there. No rush…it’s not even important. But, then there’s this pressing reality, constantly making me struggle through the ‘voyage’ in my life. What’s the purpose? Where am I going to go? It’s not like I’m going to put a dent in society.

 

I wake up every morning, floating a few blissful seconds between my dreamless freedom and my reality. I want it to last, that feeling. But, then, this sudden guilt rushes in, guilt for trying to be free, wanting to be released from this prison, this hell. Can’t I give up life? Quit my ‘role’ and be what I want to be?

 

I guess I wish it were easier. Don’t you? Doesn’t every one? But…reality has already taught me it’s not. Each and every waking moment is a war, a struggle. You’re at war with everything the moment you are born, but most people are either too ignorant to realize it or too smart to dwell on it. Why couldn’t I be in one of those categories? Instead, I’m the dumb one who stumbles over it and lays one the ground until I want to get back up and start again. Brilliant. So why not pull myself up off the ground? I don’t even know why I am so stuck to the ground and feeling so…[?] hopeless [?] so lost [?] so out of touch [?]. Is there something deep down inside me that is holding me down that I refuse to acknowledge? What’s so wrong with me that I feel this bent out of shape? What if…what if it really is nothing? Then why am I wasting my time? Your time? I don’t know…that scares me, though. I can’t let myself believe it’s all a hoax I somehow planted for myself…because then I’ve lied my life…my everything…

 

Then what’s left? I shouldn’t even be looking into this possibility…this one’s a false start…a dead end. I didn’t create this great depression. I know better. But, I did let myself stay in it…and do you see how much trouble I’m having digging myself out? It’s getting better…but…it’s not easy…not easy at all.

 

I might look back and smile because I was being strong! Not fake strong like I’ve been for my entire life, but really, truly strong; Strong enough to put myself back together again; Strong enough to smile for real the next day; Strong enough to see the Shea that everyone else knows and loves. Wouldn’t that be great?

 

I guess all I can do is hold on and wait. Every thing's bound to get better…I think. At least they say that healing takes time…but I’ve always thought time only makes things worse…Well, I will soon know for sure, won’t I?

 

   _-Shea