It was 15 years ago when it happend. I just moved from my old house because I was trying to start new in a new town. I had to leave all my friends behind because they knew what I couldn't let anybody else know.
This town had bright, happy, and truthful people–or so I thought. I had pets before I moved, so I figured that I would get another one. A pet that would love me, and protect me. Samson was my first dog. He kept me company and gave me love and made me feel safe. I hated the thought of being alone, but I didn't want to be with anybody either, so I just got pets and replaced human affection with animal affection. That might sound crazy, but it works for me so I'm sticking with it.
Even though I'm an introvert, I still have plenty of human interaction. It's just always in the bedroom. I had a lover before I moved but he didn't want to come with me, so I had to leave him back home. It broke my heart that he wouldn't move with me, but that's just how my life goes, so I'm working with what I have. The way I see it is you're not lonely if you're okay with being alone, so that's what I'm doing now–sitting alone not being lonely.
Whenever I'm down in the dumps, I always look up inspirational quotes on Google and try to feel better about myself. works 50% of the time but the other 50% is just lost in this abyss of depression, self-loathing, and food binges. That's what I did then and that's still what I do now. But now, I added another item to the mix. I like to write short stories about imaginative, wild adventures that I wish I could be on or anything to enlighten my mood and get rid of all these weird feelings that have nowhere else to go.
That night of the accident, I didn't have my writing to make those weird feelings go away, so I did something else. Something drastic that I 100% regret now. Although, when I did it, I was so glad to release every embodiment of rage I ever bottled up; refusing to let go. I bet your wondering what that "accident" was. Well I'm going to tell you for my parole officer is making me. Seems that writing is the only thing that keeps me calm these days, so if I write it out, maybe I'll lose a little bit more of that anger that's bubbling underneath; waiting to be released.