…I can take it. But it’s getting mighty fuckin’ hard this time. My grandmother is in a bad way. I’m not good with dealing with emotions and feelings and shit. I prefer to keep everything bottled up. Death is one thing I really can’t deal with. It hurts too fuckin’ bad. My hope has always been for me to die long before any of my family or friends. Selfish I know, but I figure I’m more of a burden anyway. People’d be sad for a little while but they’d be free and I wouldn’t have to deal with death. I just don’t know how to handle it.
Now my grandmother is fighting for her life and I’m emotionally numb. She was the one person I could talk to about anything. In a time where I had no respect for anyone or anything, I respected and loved my grandparents. No matter how bad I fucked up, and I fucked up a lot. She was always there to give me a good talking to, not with malice or anger. With compassion and a little bit of disappointment. Well maybe a lot of disappointment. And I hated it. Not that she was disappointed. I hated that I had disappointed her.
I talk bad about my family a lot. I will say, without a large portion of my family. I’d be a much more bitter, and hateful human being. I don’t know if I’d be here right now if not for them. They’ve been my strength, and the strongest one of them all is my Grandmother.
Makes me question life. What’s the point of it all? In the big picture, what have I done for this world? When I’m gone, will anyone care? Do I care? Makes believing in God easier that’s for sure. To think that after your dead, heaven awaits. You’ll be reunited with loved ones. That it’s all a part of a much bigger plan and life is just the beginning. But what if it’s not? What if death is the end. Was living life worth it? Was all the pain and hurt in life worth it? I don’t know. I know right now, I’m leaning towards no. Life sucks, then you die. The end. The pain of it all sucks and I hate it.