Letters to God

by Noise Pollution

Hey, man.

I know we don’t talk much, but that’s because I don’t believe in your existence. It’s a shitty thing to say, I know, but lets face it: the odds are against you.

Anyways, now that our re-introduction is out of the way, I just wanted to let your likely non-existent self know that I could  really use a hand right now. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone in my life than I have over the last year. The only time I’ve even felt a sense of comradery with anyone since last August was when I was in the hospital.

I don’t know what’s up with my head lately, either. I was all happy and totally stoked a week or two ago; now I’ve slipped back into a scary place. I’m not sleeping, and then I’m sleeping too much. I cut the shit out of my arm on Monday. I wish there was someone around that I felt comfortable with. I mean, I’m stuck here living with my parents; I should be able to talk to them, right? Well, I can’t. I really can’t. My mother has had issues with self-harm in the past, and still struggles with depression, so she totally understands what I’m going through, but I just can’t talk to her about it. She makes it about her. She asks me what she can do to help, and nobody can do fucking anything to help, she should know that better than anyone but she still asks me anyway. She feels guilty, like it’s her fault that I’m cutting myself, and feels no restraint when it comes to expressing that. It’s all under the guise of “making sure I’m in a good place” but when I talk to her about my problems, my problems become about her and they’re just fucking not about her, holy shit, they’re so not about her. So I live with someone who understands, but I can’t speak to her about it because it makes everything worse. And I don’t feel comfortable talking to her about it anyway.

The closest thing I have to a comfortable place to talk about it is my support group, which is dedicated to that sort of thing. I had to tell them I slipped up when I went last time. Man, did that suck. Nobody judged me, they never do, but it’s still hard to admit that you fucked up when you  did.

I just wish there was a single person in my life that I felt truly comfortable around.

I used to have that, but he still lives where I used to live and I haven’t seen him since I moved out here.

I used to have that, but she cheated on me and left me to die in my dump-ass rental home.

I used to have that, but I owe her money that I’m never paying back.

I used to have that, but he disappeared for two years on a mission serving you, of all people, and I haven’t seen him since.

I used to have that, but he joined some aspect of the military and found other friends.

I used to have that, but they’re all still smoking pot or doing X or taking speed or dropping acid or getting totally plastered every day and I’m reluctantly sober.

I used to have that, but now I’m all alone.

I know you don’t really exist, but could you send somebody here anyway? Just work through your non-existence, do something for me, please.

I need somebody.

 

[Please don’t tell me there’s a god in the comments, I really don’t think that’s going to help. And by that I mean it’ll make me feel worse if that’s the only thing you got out of reading this; that I need religion in my life. I’ve been there, done that. Not for me. If that’s all you have to say, please say it to someone else. I’m borderline suicidal right now and I don’t need to argue with you.]

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