It could be worse. I have difficulty remembering every good thing that's ever happened to me. On the contrary, every day I struggle to not be reminded of the bad things that have happened to me, or things that I have done.
If I haven't thought about putting a gun in my mouth, it's a good day. Another good day that I can look on with regret.
My life has been pretty good, even interesting. Some times it has even been fulfilling. I've traveled, I've climbed mountains, I've had sex with beautiful women. I've been a NEET, I've been a complete loser, I've been a sexless virgin. I've had dozens of different jobs. I've lived many entirely different lives. I've lived a life where people would lock their doors as I walked by, and I've lived others where I've ordered custom tailored suits. On the surface, it sounds glamorous and exciting, but really it has been almost endless drudgery marked with truly pathetic behaviour. Here and there has been a spice of pride, but all I can ever think about are the mistakes, the bad times, and my brain betrays me and makes me forget all the good. The good always fades away, for the pain to wash over me yet again. Pain, shame, loss, sadness and loneliness are my companions. Every so often I am warmed by other people's fires, but then I move on again. I move on, never knowing where, but knowing I've outlasted my stay and that I need to keep going. Never really knowing where, or why or how. Then my old companions return to me, while the departing hearth is forgotten.
The trouble is that the good times never last and then you're left the same way you started: poor, hungry, directionless and so very alone.
So, be glad that you're not me. Be glad that you can remember the good times, and that you can hope for what's ahead, because I cannot.
My experience has only taught me to trudge on through the suffering, that you cannot let the pain win. You cannot let the inside and the outside crush your spirit. That you must fight and fight and fight even when it is hopeless and all you feel is shame and despair. While there is life, you must fight and travel onwards, because sometimes you find the next hearth, and for a while at least, you can be warm again.
