But then again, no matter how good I feel, I still ask myself the same question-- why am I here? I don't really like being alive. What's the point, really? It's pretty much the same thing day after day.
When people say "it's better than the alternative" I say-- "how do you know?" If heaven is supposed to be a paradise, why aren't more people anxious to get there? I read the obituaries every day thinking, why can't it be me?
I just don't get how some people are always so happy to be alive. Billy is that way. Because of my depression, I never feel that way.
I believe that if I dropped off the face of the earth, no one would skip a beat. Oh sure, some people will mourn--for about an hour--and then they will go on with their lives.
Hell, Billy will have women lined up outside the house if they've read some of my blog posts about him. He's a saint-- and a lot of fun. He won't stay on the market long.
In whose life have I made a difference? Besides my kids, of course. But even then, I've been a flawed Mom. I'm not fishing for compliments here; I really mean this.
What have I ever done to make the world a better place? Nothing.
Someone please explain this to me.
I came home from a bad day at workI like my clients
But the boss is a jerk
A guy cut me off at the Gaskins light
I’d flip him the bird but I didn’t want a fight
That’s what I like
It's a temporary vacation
But I sleep through the night
The dogs got out and the bank just called
My house won't sell 'cause the market is stalled
My job's uncertain; the company's for sale
I need a martini before I can tackle the mail
The doctor said don’t do that girl
It’s Russian roulette
Yeah, but I’ll give it a whirl
Self-medication helps me forget
It can come from a bottle, an herb or a pill
As long as it gives me a thrill
And takes me out of my head
Lets me float around instead
So what if I end up brain dead?