I've lost sight of the reason I have to live.
Now that's not always a bad thing, mind you. Philosophically, searching for why to live can be just as important as living itself.
But what makes it truly terrifying is...
I've lost a desire to find that reason.
I've just...lost my care.
There's hope for me still.
You know what that hope is?
I asked myself if I wanted to die. And in response, I was told, "No. I want to live."
So it's not to the point of being suicidal yet.
That's a very slim hope.
I don't even know why I want to live.
I just do.
At the same time.
I don't know why I'm alive.
And I've lost my wish to find it.
I feel like I knew it at a time.
But right now I don't.
I just don't know.
And things feel like they're only going to get worse before they get better.
I can't face people like this. There's too much hostility within me. I briefly tried going onto ComicFury. The me I saw there wasn't the Ranger they knew. It was the dark me, the cursed, twisted, borderline-malevolent me that I became just before I left the first time. I can't log onto ComicFury again until I get out of that mindset.
Not for my sake.
I don't want to hurt people.
It's more than wanting to help people.
I feel like if I were to go on right now, with my current bitterness, hatred, and rage, that I could actually hurt someone.
I vowed never to do that.
I meant it when I said this was bad.
Words fail to describe it.
I'm not in control.
I mean, I never really am, something's always there, but I'm REALLY not in control.
I want to call out and ask for help.
But right now the best thing I can think of that someone could offer me in terms of help is to turn me away from others so that I don't do something I regret, that is, don't hurt people, don't tarnish my name, don't regain infamy I've worked hard to destroy.
So I can't really ask anyone for help. Not really.
I'm just in no shape to be anything.