Per request of my wife: I just woke up from another nap and I write down my scattered thoughts on emotional pain and in a state of complete confusion and disorder in my current life situation. Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most though it might, just might return even if just for a second. I believe I have lost the battle with my own mind, but I still carry on feeling completely alone in the enterprise, which is where I want to be. I want to be alone. It is the closest thing I can think of that will press the pause button on life, especially with other people. I am a bad person to my wife, and to my wife, my biggest fear has always been that eventually you would see me the way I see myself. I keep thinking of saying good-bye to my own sanity. I believe I have lost this war, perhaps a long time ago. My mind has always been a dark place and not somewhere I would want my worst enemy to be. Nonetheless, I still battle depression. And man, am I tired. I have always wanted to feel like me again because it has been a very long time to feel like somebody else or as people say the old me and I end up feeling gone as I go deeper and deeper into oblivion. I still just need to be alone without any more external drama or chaos. I do not know how to deal with it except through anger, disdain, or withdrawing completely, and yet keeping up with my art when I can. It is saving me so far. But I believe for my own good, and others around me, I believe I just need to be alone for now not to be lonely, but to find some sort of enjoyment or even any interest in my free time to be me and myself. Otherwise, I serve no purpose and certainly no positive purpose. I don't think I ever have been meant to be, or have any purpose, except communicating through my art, mainly my writing and to share it to those who cannot. I do have nothing else to lose. I feel the stress of everything in the world at once trying to claw its way into my mind constantly, and I need a way to push through life before it's too long. Something like this sort of writing, or maybe music, or at times just sleeping through life, and not participating. I have these miserable feelings inside me that I can't seem to control, though it feels like I can and I continue to fail, hurting people, and causing other people's own anguish, wretchedness, hatred, and so forth. I feel that I cause the same to myself. So I stand back. I no longer interact with people due to the bizarre conflict I do not know how to handle. I continue to fight for my wife and kittens but not myself and but because in reality, giving up is just not an option. It never has been. But so far I have lost. I walk away from day to day life just because I want peace and day-to-day life keeps following me, as well as the past. I try not to argue with other people in my life and I still have hope for something. I just don't know what I am hoping for, maybe just peace of mind and no more distress or conflict. If I do pull through the chaos it will be because I had been my own hero once again. It will need to be that way. No one can destroy me. I destroy myself, rather the schizophrenia does. Please just save me. Fix me. I have fought this battle more than once and I have still not won yet. It creeps up on me and terrifies me to pieces. That's enough for now. I am being as honest as I can possibly be. Love me, hate me, hurt me, or kill me. But I keep on. I'm still here, entirely confused about how to relate to other people, real people. I am a mental health problem, not a person. I am schizophrenia. I am no longer a person. Not anymore. I sit back and watch the world go round me. I am a failure. The only place where my dreams become impossibilities has been my own mind. I can't see what is actually possible, something good, and something better than the hand of cards I have been dealt so far. The war against my own mind still exists on a continuous loop. And that is why I keep fighting even if nobody is aware of it. I have been absent from the external world with my broken mind. But I do have hope. They call it depression. They call it schizophrenia and so forth. I call it war. I will leave it at that for now. I know it will barely if at all make sense to many people, but I could be wrong. I can’t give up and I won’t give up. Considering I've been diagnosed with schizophrenia, bipolar, PTSD, borderline personality disorder, Tourette's syndrome, diabetes, anxiety and depression, a rare blood disease, dyslexia, and cancer I am doing pretty okay. I'm fine. I'm just not happy. I'd rather be honest than impressive.