Oh Diary! Chapter IIX?

 How long has it been? Since I spoke to you last? Eternity perhaps. I've broken up and got back together with the same boy, can you believe it. Now, I came back not to talk about how difficult it is to mantain a relationship or how my love life seems to always fail somewhere, somehow. That's a story for another day. Today diary, we're talking shit about ourselves, hurrah!

An update for you, I'm extremely broke with almost 9k debt wrapped around my waist. Oh, and I've gained up to 10 kgs. To sum it up, I'm fat and poor. Ah, and suicidal. You know diary, I thought suicide is for mere teens who are cronically online, like how I once was. Apparently it creeps into your adulthood too diary, slowly and painfully. 

I've never enjoyed birthdays or growing older but for once in my life I was, turning 28 brought me so much excitement or so I thought. 28 has been the most challenging year for me emotionally and financially which of course then makes it hard to feel mentally okay. I've realised the biggest lesson of my life this year, I cannot seem to afford holidays. Neither domestically nor internationally. Imagine, working a low paying job that you despise with all your heart and not able to reap any sort of benefit from it. I understand that it is an extreme privilege to complain about how you cannot pay to fly around the world when others are starving and dying but diary, does that mean I have no room to complain?

I always wonder why is this my path, why do I have to hate my job, why can't it be a high paying job at least so I can overcompensate my pain in other ways. Why was this written for me? My abundant debt is adding to my pain, at a point I cannot handle anymore. I want it all to end. The pain, the suffering, the sadness. No matter how much I push it away, it won't leave me. Lingering around me, sitting on my shoulders. I've thought about how I'd do it diary, how I'd kill myself. I want to die peacefully, in my car all alone, sleeping. 

But here's the thing about life diary, it is selfish to kill yourself, a sin. If you were to kill yourself, then what about the lives of those who care for you, those who love you? No matter how much pain you're going through, you have to live for others. Never for yourself like a marionette. For the pleasure of others. Just like my job, I have to do it for the people around me so that they'll be able to live a good life.  Not to mention, when you take your own life God hates you. You're deemed to go to hell and you'll suffer for eternity. Never to smell the fragrance of paradise. 

But God must know that I cannot do this anymore. I am at my wit's end. Then why diary, that God refuse to help me or guide my life for the better? Is it because I'm not a good shepherd? I am not good to God therefore God will not be good to me. I never deserved a good life, who did I thought I was? I only knew pain ever since I could understand what pain is. My body has endured agony, ache and still, I believed that one day it will all work out. A fool. That's what I am. The sooner I realise what a horrible loser I am, the better it is. Happiness and glory act like allergy to my plotline. Growing hives and redness whenever it intertwines with my life. Suffering however, is one with my blood. The perfect match. 

Diary, how do I break this curse? Am I doomed for life? 

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