I find myself wondering how it is that people who claim to love you can't seem to hear you screaming for some kind of help. You keep trying to put off arranging death for your pain which, unfortunately means death to your body and life, too. I can't understand this fixation that people have with having to appear normal and ok when they're really not. I'm not and yet it's not ok to talk about it anywhere in the polite public. Face book is for happy stories and news of love and family additions not the admission of pain so searing and all encompassing you find yourself dabbing tears off of the keyboard while reading about all the happy things your friends and loved ones are doing. Everybody sprouting such positive sayings and platitudes even as you sit contemplating death. They see you, they know you and yet the most important thing is that you not burden them with your sadness. This thing with my son is killing me. I've asked my family to intervene, to help him understand that he's not really hearing what I'm saying. It's as if a switch flicks on and filters every word I say into criticism or chastisement when that's not what I'm saying at all. How screwed up of a father to value his relationship/friendship with a son he wasn't even around to help raise more than helping to heal the relationship between that son and the mother who's done everything she knew how to raise him alone.

I don't know much about blogging. I found this place this morning as I sifted through some suicide hotline options. I don't want to end up in a psych ward… after being recently laid off and not being able to afford insurance, I really don't want to end up in a vile place that simply warehouses unhappy individuals. I've got to pull myself together so I can go to the nursing home to check on my mom who is in the mid to late stages of Alzheimer's. If I can manage not to shed any tears there or in public until I get back home, I guess that will be the most I can do today.

Footnote. My house looks like an episode off of horders, the TV show. I can't seem to clean or care right now. I really hate living like this.