Abandoned

I’m at a point in my life where I feel like every day weighs so heavy on me; all I can see are shades of grey. I’ve been feeling like this for three weeks and I can’t shake it. I’m exhausted. I’m burnt out. I feel alone- and the only little joys in my life are video games and Taco-Tuesday.

Waking up to make coffee trying to shake the feeling despite my best efforts does little to subside it. I resist for only a minute before reaching out to pour in the leftover whiskey from last night. Today I was supposed to be at work again, but after waking up for the eighth time around 4 am I finally just called in- not that I really needed the job.

Instead opting to sit in front of my computer where real money was made to play around. And perhaps conveniently drink in my private hovel as my mother put it. Something I was attempting to prove her wrong with a day job.

I was on anxiety medication in the past and was highly considering once again thanks to my new antics. Not that I opposed people, but they were draining in retail even when you did your best to be nice. There were always a few customers just about every day that kicked up my anxiety on my way home.

And then there was what we call- the battle of the bed.

Insomnia had me flipping side to side- when I bothered to try. Most of the time I just worked through the night until I hopefully felt tired. This was day four though- and I was beyond functioning in the real world.

Anxiety medication would help, since sleeping medication certainly never had in the past let alone now. Trying sleeping medication, teas, and smells just makes me dizzy and sick to my stomach; and still unable to sleep. Except for lavender, which smells nice but can make my allergies flair up. Even though it's supposed to be a better one.

The problem with getting on Anxiety medication, it might slow the thoughts- but the depression gets way worse.

Twenty-three years of people telling me I’m a waste of space. Of people telling me I’m not good enough to be a game designer, not good enough to sell my work, not good enough to lose weight before puberty had finished its job or stand on my own two feet. Not. Good. Enough.

My siblings seemed to have it much easier than me, and when they needed help it’s was given no questions asked. No strings attached. Not even something as petty as twenty dollars oh no (a thing I couldn't accomplish by the way for gas).

A house. A business loan. A cosign on a truck, or car. I was the unwanted child from a marriage my father hadn't wanted- stuck with two daughters they doted on. My mother was the gatekeeper to kindness. If I took her gentle suggestions sometimes or helped hack into the twin's accounts.

It helped pay for my starter equipment when I moved out. The twins, however, had paid for the rest. I didn't ask how the cash was made or what they wanted to hide. Honestly- I didn't care.

Thankfully I didn't need therapy to tell me my family was toxic. I did need it, however, to tell me to let go of their petty lives and move on with mine. Interact only as much as I feel comfortable or obligated, but don't let it consume me.

However a few sessions of therapy doesn't erase sentences branded into your memory when you are at your lowest.

Get good grades like Arron, and you'll get money girls. Don't flake off like Arron, if you do worse, you're grounded. Arron just because your sisters' cars doesn't mean I can afford one for you. Arron just because it's a second-hand truck on lease doesn't mean it's not your vehicle. Arron sorry you fixed it but, we need to give it back to Uncle Tom.

That one still stung. There were quite a few memories that still stung. Darker memories when I was a child of being locked in a room. Grounded without dinners for a week with only school food to sustain me. The double standards that seemed to only apply to me.

Consistent guilt if I didn't live up to their expectations.

It wasn't to say they didn't love me. My parents loved me wholeheartedly.

They just had a funny way of showing it sometimes...

Inconsiderate.

A word I adopted when I finally moved out that made more sense to me. They just didn't take into account other people's feelings. The end goal is all that mattered; to try and raise us all with a good head on our shoulders.

Though I have to say, a good head isn't exactly what I had anymore. Instead, I just felt... ill. Fighting the same thoughts and the same feelings over and over until it was so exhausting that bed always seemed like the most logical solution.

So much so, that I wished a light would come into my life and distract me as I fired up my PC to start the day.

Unlike most men my screen wasn't filled with naked women, just what one might call masculine scenery considering the amount of lava and steampunk that rotated screens. I was tempted to put in some work, but considering the hour I picked up my phone instead. Mildly curious I flipped through the dating site I had set up last night, frowning at the lack of messages.

Within what felt like seconds- all of my swipes were gone and a few auto messages were sent. The last one it set me on looked rather... pretty. Prompting me to smile a bit, scrolling through her profile.

While I wasn't looking for a hook-up, women like this made that general rule of mine hard to break. She was subtle in the way she was sexy, voluptuous, and a little bit dark with the way she wore her makeup. Her eyes alone invited me into bed, the startling blue all I could think about as my cock began to twitch.

She wasn't my type, but for the purposes of what I needed at the moment. Her eyes where certainly my type as I unzipped my fly and rearranged myself, giving myself a two firm long strokes in the process to see if I was actually interested.

A soft moan erupted from my throat, causing me to flip from the dating profile to some of the saved porn on my phone. As I continued to grow in length and girth in my hand as I began to work it up and down the shaft, I supposed there was one other thing that still brought me joy in my day to day.