Sometimes I want to quit writing, because I many people I seem to be more successful than me. A writer is the only thing I really wanted. Lots of people I know sold more books than me. Is the universe trying to tell me that I wuck.
I am 32 today and I’m okay that. I think this is my year. I am going to take more chances, and be more aggressive in my pursuit of happiness.
I’ve been so depressed by the circumstances of my life. I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel so disconnected from my faith.
I try to be as possible, but I always have this negative voice in the back of my mind telling me I would be better off dead. Sometimes I long to be home and by home I mean heaven. I am always particularly melancholy around this time of year, because February will be 19 years of my brother John’s death; John committed suicide when he was 17. I feel partly responsible for his death, because I knew how unhappy it was with life, but I just then he would suck it up and deal with it like the rest of us. After he died I remember being jealous because he had the courage to do what I could not do, which is end my own suffering. No matter how much I hate this life at times, I cannot against God’s will.
My brother John and I would constantly argue about the existence of God. This is when I believe in more of a traditional religion, like Christianity. I am grateful to tell you that my Outlook had greatly improved, however in the back of my mind I have doubts about whether I am worthy of anything positive. I still believe that suicide is not the answer, because life is forever changing, as long as you have breath you have a chance to make it wonderful.