WARNING - Some of my stories may act as a trigger. This is not my intention. Also, I take responsibility for every single word and line you will find here. I am not a coward. I will stand by what I write, because this is who I am.
I didn't know who I wanted to be. I already had money and the power that comes with influential friends. My reputation, however, was rapidly fading. I bought things I never used. Quit jobs I hadn't started. I knew eventually that everything would be gone. I had no attachment to them anyway, so I didn't classify it as a loss.
I didn't bother calling my boss. I simply didn't show up to work. Having been inspired whilst eating breakfast in front of the television, I decided my priority was to become fit. I use the term 'decided' loosely as it suggests control, of which I had none. My mind told me that once I was fit, everything else would fall naturally into place. So, I had a quick shower and headed to the gym.
Upon arrival I saw that there were too many people there. I left in a hurry, returning home. It felt like everyone was staring at me. I could hear them whispering, even though I knew in reality they probably had far more exciting topics of conversation to discuss than me. It started to rain. I went to bed. Tomorrow had to be an improvement. I couldn't fathom it being any worse.
I awoke to the ringing of my phone. I shuttered and nervously edged my way out of making a donation to a random charity. Not like I had a lot of money anyway. Each day I moved closer to bankruptcy, yet I continued to waste it like a fool, buying useless items in an attempt to feel better about myself. I even hired a butler. I watched him arrive in a taxi, and remove his luggage from the trunk.
I couldn't distinguish between night and day anymore. My sleeping habits were so damn erratic. I've stopped counting how much I've had to drink. It only serves to bring me down.
I kissed a girl. In front of other guests. I was rejected. While she was extremely nice and considerate of my feelings, embarrassment still reddened my cheeks, and twisted my insides. I managed to escape, before I threw up on the street. I barely made it home. I just couldn't believe how stupid I had been to believe someone could share a mutual desire to have a relationship with me, or even a fling. I regretted everything.
Food became a problem in itself. I ate when I was depressed, and was depressed when I ate. My laugh of a fitness regime hadn't lasted a week. I could feel myself getting bigger, and older too. I was losing time. Sometimes, I would fall asleep on a lounge, on the floor, anywhere really, and wake to a new day. Time passed without me.
The stress of life's demands continued to take its toll. I began thinking about suicide. I would never do such a thing, but my mind had romanticised the idea. I imagined what it would be like to not care about anything. I desired a place like that, begged for it even. Sometimes the thoughts would overpower me in my sleep.
The worst part was waking up alive.