Self-sabotage. Disappointment. Loneliness.
When will I be done with them already?
There's the life I have and there's the life I want. I fear the two will never meet.
When I go to work, I'm thankful to be there and for my coworkers. At the same time, the positions I have are as far as I'll be able to go. Besides my art, I have no other skill-set and my simple income has pretty much plateaued. At 36 years-old, that's just discouraging.
And I have yet to find a man that will accept me as I am and love me with everything he has.
I'm ashamed to be me and doubt my life will ever become what I dream it to be.
It's moments like these that make me wish I killed myself long ago.
Here's a self-portrait I did this weekend expressing all of it:
Pen and marker in Moleskine journal - (NFS)
There was too much sickness in me and it screamed to get out. I felt a release and relief when this was completed. Thank God.
Sadly, this'll be be my first real piece of art created this whole year.
I wish things were easier. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I wasn't alone.
Deep in my heart, I still love you though, Dean.