Rant about life #4,652

 I don’t get why I’m not as important as other people.  Am I not a child of God, too?

It seems so easy to overlook me that I’m really beginning to wonder what’s the use.  I am not going to kill myself, but I find myself wishing that the heart attack my weight and blood pressure put me in the range of to hurry up and happen…and be fatal.  Just quick.  I don’t want to linger on and on in pain, only to have to do it all by myself, anyway.

Nobody would take care of me if I were incapacitated, so I may as well just rid the planet of my existence.  Mama wouldn’t do it because Wayne would be upset that the attention was off of him.  Laurie may be willing, but she wouldn’t be capable, really.  My daughters….well, I wouldn’t want them or their children tied down to me, anyway.

Yes, I’m depressed.  Ding ding ding, the winner has been declared.

I don’t seem to have many light depressions anymore.  It’s either that I’m okay, I’m manic, or I’m at the bottom of the ocean, which is where I am now.  And I don’t care if the ocean drowns me.  In fact, it might be preferable to coming back up the surface.