I have never really liked being alive very much. Still don't. The fact my kids needed me kept me here for a long time. Now they don't need me anymore, and while I am glad about that, I don't really have any reason to stay.
I love my partner a lot, but life has taught me that down the road I will probably lose him too. I never expect anything to last now. Someone younger or prettier or more suitable will probably come along and take him from me.
All I see ahead of me are more years of struggling financially and emotionally. I have lived pretty much without hope for a very long time. Some days I am okay, some days I am just pissed off that I had to wake up at all, when the oblivion of sleep is so much more preferable than having to deal with more decades of this grinding struggle to live through every day.
I am 52, I have felt like this since I was 15. On my 15th birthday I cried all day, because even back then I realised how different I was from everyone else, and that life was always, always going to hurt me.
I am so, so tired.