My cat keeps me from killing myself

Where to begin? Yesterday I worked an event 40 miles away. It was quite chilly outside, so I stood there and froze my ass off for 8 hours, and then walked with 12 dollars in cash. There better be some good grat on this function, people! Then on the way home I totally zoned out and missed my exit for the freeway, so it took me an extra 15 minutes to get home. Grrr! I was supposed to hook up with Jason, but I realized it was going to be really late, so I left him a voicemail that maybe we could get together today for brunch or lunch or something. So he texts me that he was out with friends and already drunk, and maybe we could do something next week. Whatever. I’m kind of over it at this point. I texted L to see what she was doing, but no answer. I contemplated going to the bar solo, but realized I was too down in the dumps to enjoy it at all. So I crawled into bed at 1:30 pissed off, lonely, tired, cold, and hungry. And then I couldn’t go to sleep. WTF?! So then of course I ended up sleeping really late and waking up depressed. I did manage to pick up the apartment a bit and actually worked out as well, so yay.

I thought about killing myself last night. Not like planning it out or anything, but the thought crossed my mind for the first time in a long time. I mean, what am I doing? I’ve been struggling and stumbling along, half living, for the past 37 years. I make periodic half-hearted attempts at pulling myself out of the muck but nothing ever really comes of it and I end up right back where I started. What’s the point? I’m probably going to spend the next 37 years living the same empty existence, just a drain on the world. This sounds silly, but the one thing that keeps me from doing it is my cat. I have to be here to keep him happy and healthy. He is my baby and the one thing that brings me comfort. I wish someone could help me, but I don’t know who that person would be. I know that I am pathetic and ungrateful – there are millions without food and shelter and yet here I am, whining away. That knowledge only makes it worse, because then I feel guilty on top of everything else. What a disappointment I am.

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