Pain-stained Journals | Anthology

10 | Tormented by the thoughts

I was living alone while I was feeling inadequate. Life was a horrendous mess that I felt no belonging to. My dreams were leaving me distant from this world. They were obscure, some might even say they were terrifying. I have my medication with me too. I'm not leaving it behind since it's the only stable thing in my entire life.

Living with depression made my life a full disaster. My life was like two waves crashing into each other abruptly. Waves of pure agony that lived on in my heart sank it in. My heart was having a rough time ever since my fiancé left me. I was feeling like life has passed away from me.

Attempts of my father, who craved to blessed me with his wisdom, were a mistake. He made me do a lot of things that felt like obligations. He told me "Do those things son, you will forget what life is and what it was.". I thought of it as a strange method of living life. However, when I finally moved on and was doing as he told me I finally realized that it made sense.

Life suddenly became like a fun bunch. Feelings of emptiness left me, and sorrow emptied my mind. Glancing over at my life a while ago I was not able to distinguish if it's better now or then. Life is full of surprises, but mines are no happy surprises. I come to the same work each day. It seems dull to many people, but I acknowledge it for it's a simple mechanic.

My uneventful life was starting to behave its missing part. All these years I felt like I had nothing left that wax worth in my life. I remember looking at wedding photos of me and my wife. The videos were like heat waves, that wrenched someone's soul. My heart was a wreaked havoc when I watched how my dead wife dances with me. Her graceful moves made my eyes tingle with tears. My grateful eyes were staring right at her eyes. I saw a life of mine in her eyes. She breathed life into me. A pure gift was to have her in my life.

After her death, I started writing journals. Journals made an impact on me and while I was writing them, I was focused on how I was feeling and why my state was dependent on certain situations. Journals weight a ton after I finished a couple of them. I valued them with my life.

After journals, came despair. The long day shift always led to drinking alone in my room. Alcohol drained my emotions away. When I drank, I stopped writing journals since there was no use. My emotions vanished. I felt unproductive but couldn't help it. I didn't try to change my state. My insides were furious with me and each time I drank heavier I was vomiting. Catching on an empty bottle made me see how deep I had dived into alcoholism. Years went on and my bank account was almost bankrupt.

After I vanished down my emotions then came another addiction. Sex and love addiction. Every night different woman. This was my lifestyle after my drinking lifestyle came to an end. Each woman had the same empty eyes as they answered: "Yes, do it" to the same question he asked every time. Having sex with different women every night was an escape mechanism. As I was escaping my life-draining thoughts I figured that life isn't that bad at all and that I can still enjoy it without drinking. What I didn't know was that this addiction destroyed my mentality which was in enough danger.

I was falling in love with every woman I slept with. Every night I asked them to act like my dead wife was acting, to wear a dress in my wife's favorite color, I demanded them to speak certain words as my wife did. From now and then some thought of me as a delusional man who is obsessing over a dead woman. I didn't care. This was my motto for everything I was doing in my life after my wife died.

The carousel of hunger came when I was sentenced to rehab. No one told me why and what, but I truly knew it myself long ago. I was in deep need of rehab. Giving it upon me was a choice that my father made. I couldn't help it when he was telling me to go there with tears in his eyes. Every night in this obscure place was reminding me of an empty bottle - it had possibilities, but they were already taken over. It was like this with my life, it had a possibility, but it was already taken away.

I went home after 6 months of rehab. My mother was crying in my arms as so on axe I walked through my parent's house. A familiar feeling washed over me when I saw an empty bottle on the table.

"Oh, yes, the empty bottle. Someone told me you were writing your thoughts while in rehab. I regained some of them and noticed a theme there. An empty bottle." my father started on.

My eyes went blank for a second leaving me breathless in my stance. How could he know? Is he that deeply interested in my life? it can't be this case since I would have already noticed it by now.

I thought of it as an uneventful night, but it turned out I was here for a greater purpose. A purpose of having an important family evening that was just like my fiancée would want.

This night felt different than every other night. Each night since her death I was either drinking. having sex with different women, writing my journals or crying. Tonight, was different and I felt it in pure form. Like a lightning bolt, it shot through my mind. Maybe that's it. A life of purpose. A life that someone can be proud of. That's something that I need right now.

Crying face - no more

Alcoholic smiles - no more

Empty women's eyes - no more

My life was about to change dozen times and I couldn't be more excited for it. As I mentioned before it was a blast - living. But when I hit the rock bottom, I suddenly felt like I should do something with my life. Anything if it is something that brings me joy.

Life is a rocky path and the ones who are ready to travel can be scavengers, others might not stand a chance. I was lucky to have my wife in my life. She taught me life. Someday I will write about her, about why I loved her and why I still think of her even after all these years. She is a great person to write about and I know it.

Last night I went to church. I prayed for my wife's peaceful surroundings and for my mental health to be quiet. As soon as I turned my head up, I noticed a black-haired woman looking straight at me. She was beautiful but not deceiving. I wans't sure what she thought of me or why did she stare at me. But I knew I wouldn't find out unless I asked. What I did was finish my prayer and go straight home. I'm a too good a man for this woman. I am a worthy man.