My Bed. My refuge

My bed. The place I went when my wife was diagnosed with cancer.

The place I went when she died of cancer.

The place I find myself when it all gets too hard. Like today.

Its terrible. Part of me is screaming to get up and get moving. I need the work and the money.

The other part of me just can't do it some days.

I hate the depression.

I hate being so alone with my depression.

I hate myself.

I hate my life.

I hate what I am.

I hate what I have become.