Jim was right

I been down so god-damn long… it looks like up to me….
I been down so Very very long… It looks like up to me…

I know Jim Morrison didn’t write that, but it was his version I was listening to last night and I’ll be damned if it’s not stuck in my head today. What makes it even more ironic is that I actually can relate to the emotion and the words of this song.

I started writing and it started to flow and t he all of a sudden I had written about the dark side again, about suicide and how it woudl all be so easy to end everything. It’s strange because I was and am writing at work and it’s very bitty the way I can write here. Calls always interupting the flow, but for some reason today it’s a constant stream of bullshit. I don’t want to feel the way I do, I want to feel the shiney happy people feelings.

OK I had to stop posting at work it got to busy, so now I am home and carrying on… not that you really needed to know that, but if it seems a little more disjointed than usual then there you have it.

I have been pondering what is bothering me a lot of the time lately and it seems that it’s work that’s triggering my depressions. If I am honest (which you know I am dear reader) I am ready to quit just for the sake of my mental health. I know no one likes to work and I am in that number, I think in a utopian society that everything would be supplied free at source. But my in my head my situation is slightly different.
If I wake up in the morning feeling sick because I have to face another day in the office being abused and made to feel small and then actually having to go do it then I want out.
I have no one to talk to where I sit, it’s a very solitary 5 hours, which you may find strange to hear considering I answer the telephone for those 5 hours. The customers don’t care about the person on the other end of the phone, to them I am just a means to getting what they want.. just another tool in there tool belt.

Maybe I am just having a really bad day but going to bed right now (5pm) and just locking the door and saying fuck the world sounds like a great plan about now. But I’ll just sit here at the computer and listen to my music and pretend I am coping. I am having a hard time talking to ANYONE about my BP lately, I don’t need pleasantry’s I need solid answers and permission to do my own thing without consequence (stop lauging at me it’s not funny). Why can’t I just be decisive and take the bull by the balls and run with it.

I guess I have rambled on enough for one day.

Until Next Time…

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