Going mental

Three days of walking the streets alone. It may be three more years before the good Lord frees me from this pain. Living with fibromyalgia is no life at all. The only thing keeping me going is my little bit of pride that says "I refuse to give up." There's just got to be a rainbow among these clouds somewhere...I just can't go out like this. It's probably been ten more since I wrote this post. I'm still alive. Who would of known. More determined than ever to make my place in this world as an independent, secure woman. I've lived through a lot of peril. Dug a few graves for my past. I know I'm here for something more and it's going to happen quickly once it ignites.

Checked myself into to the "ward" before I checked out. One last ditch effort to make my life worthwhile. I miss both my sisters. One has passed and the other despises me. I miss the living even more than the non-living. We used to talk for hours.... I don't know if I will ever overcome escapism. The need to tune out is an instilled condition. I can be free of drugs. Does that make me free?🤔