This week has all been about escapism, not in a Houdini sense, but a mental sense. I needed to escape, so I could feel good, but I don’t. My life seems to be going well, I have job prospects, I have amazing friends, and I have an absolutely gorgeous man, but still I feel so alone right now. There are some people that I miss terribly, and I would do anything just to see them once more. I want my Dad to see how far I’ve come, and how well things are going, and just to have a hug from him would be more than I could ever ask for. I will never see him again because I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, and now he’s dead. I killed him, because when he was feeling down, I wasn’t with him to talk, to help, and the next day he was dead...I killed my Dad. I was the one who had to tell my sisters what had happened to their Dad, I know it wasn’t my fault what he did, but still it feels that I was the one who took him away from them, because I told them, and because I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, like he’d always been there for me. And now one of my sisters isn’t talking to me, and hasn’t since November, and all I want from her is to sit down, and hold her hand, and tell her I’m sorry for taking him away, I’m sorry I couldn’t save Dad, that it’s my fault somehow.. just to say sorry for hurting her so badly. I’ve always said I want people to like me for who I am, not what I am, and I think thats a good thing becuase right now, the “what” is a monster. But people do like me, and I don’t know how they can when I can’t even like myself. I look in the mirror and see someone ugly inside and out, and I just want to feel good about being me, but I can’t, because this is all I see when I look in the mirror. I see somene who tore his family apart, drove some to hate others, I lost the family home because I lost my job, and I couldn’t keep up with the mortgage. It’s me, I’m the one who did it, who just left Dad to die on his own, in a strange house away from his family, I’m the one who hurt my sisters so badly, so terribly and deeply, that it tore us apart...I’m the one who couldn’t hold the family together, and lost the home we shared. All that guilt is on my head, because it feels like it’s my fault, I could have stopped it, I could have been there for Dad when he needed me, but I wasn’t, we could have been a happy family still, but we’re not, and it feels like it’s all my fault. I want to take back so badly everything I’ve done to this end, undo all the bad decisions and the mistakes, I want my family to know how I feel about this, but they wont listen, they hear me, but no one really listens anymore. I’m flippant with others, even joke about what’s happened, but each time, it cuts a little deeper, hurts just that little bit more, and with each stroke of the passing blade, I lose myself that bit further. Of all the things I want in this world, what I want more than anything right now is to find me, who I really am, because I’ve lost that, this isn’t me, it’s a ghost, a hollow shell of my former self. My soul is mudded, tarnished by guilt, hate, self-loathing, anger....its all directed to myself, because thats where it feels it belongs, so how can I love, or even like myself? And if I can’t, how can anyone else? I don’t see any good points to me, I don’t know how others can. But I know they do, that keeps me fighting each day, but sometimes I wonder just how long I can take the pain..this massive weight on my mind....