Heart Attack?

I’ve got so many drafts, my relationship with God, another called pain that alters. Yet I can’t seem to write. I can’t seem to connect with my conscious enough to actively get to an understanding between my mind and my body.

I even write this knowing that since the past 10 days I’ve perpetually felt like I’m about to have a heart attack. I constantly monitor my heart rate, I remain above my average. I’ve cut down severely on smoking cigarettes, I don’t consume anything else. Though I have started to take the odd anti-anxiety now and then. Now being one of the times. I just don’t know how to connect anything anymore and each word I write feels like a waste of ink, a waste of a click a waste of just space; paper or virtual.

So then what’s it all for? What separates life from death as a viable option?

Why is it that I feel like dying would do the people around me a favor. Stop the pressure I’ve put on them. Stop the worrying, stop all the trouble. I know live and rectify. I know live to rectify. I know. But on a night like this, where it’s been long enough of me feeling this weird sensation that my heart is about to physically give out. What am I supposed to do? Admit defeat?

Accept that I have not been a good person. Accept that I’ve been a very bad one.

Come clean with my sins? Come clean with my guilty conscience?

People tell me, pushing through what I’ve had to, accepting accountability and actually forcing better from myself is commendable, some may even say inspiring but to me it is just a necessity after all the shit that I’ve done.

I do want it all to be over. I do want this whole thing to be over.

I want this case to end and I want to taste freedom. I want to embrace my mother, my grandmother, my family. I want to cry. I want the tears that stream down my face to mean something.

I want my family to know I love them, that I appreciate them. That without them, not only would I be nothing, I’d remain something worse than nothing.

I want my friends to know that there love, support, consideration and kindness have made me into someone that I like being around them.

I want them all to know I miss them.

I want this girl I have a crush on to know that I have a crush on her, as small as it is, as random and illogical. I want her to be the one that holds me as I crumble away until I regain my strength.

I want so much, from so many. Yet I don’t offer anything. I’ve become a husk of my formal self. I’ve become a shell of a man. I’ve become everything I ran from, everything I built myself not to be.

Kindness? more like weakness at this point. A habit I developed when I had the strength to be kind not weak. There’s a difference in the way you appreciate someone with kindness and with weakness, though the actions are often the same.

I run – from myself.

I confront – and see nothing.

I ache – and worry.

what am I? an empty shell? fucking disgraceful.

The pain in my left arm doesn’t stop throbbing. I don’t even know if it’s a serious problem or just my mind telling me it is cause I’m so anxious these days that it’s physically taking over.

I want/wanted to be someone, worth something. A voice that is heard amongst the constant noise of civilization. Now I’m just another rambling.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt this way physically. Mind you I’ve felt worse or at least the same in different parts of my life but I feel like I’m in so much pain.

If this is just anxiety, if this is my chronic anxiety returning. If this is again my general anxiety disorder, then fuck me. I need a woman to hold me and breathe life into me again. Cause I am getting smoked like this.

I’ve been trying to think of why I could feel this way? Is it that I don’t have a job still, and I hate being a financial burden on my family? Is it the case and not knowing anything about my freedom? okay these two seem like the most relevant ones, followed by general lack of direction. I don’t know what it is I want to do, and what’s worse is I don’t know if I even like anything. I don’t like to cook, I don’t like to write, I don’t like anything, so given that those are the two things I’m really good at, the two things I can do professionally, what do I do here exactly?

Fuck. I need help.