I’ve got to say, I’m getting tired of all this. You’d think that being able to stay at home for over a year would be fun, but that’s not how I see it. To me, it’s boring, tiring, and depressing.
I wish I was working.
I wish I could work.
I wish I could hop in the truck and drive to wherever I want.
I wish I didn’t have to take two handfuls of pills every day just to keep my head above water.
I wish that nobody had to worry about me.
I wish I hadn’t scared my wife and family so many times.
I wish I could jump out of bed, stretch, and smile at the sunrise.
I wish I could go back in time and tell myself that I needed help earlier.
I wish that I didn’t have the same nightmares coming back to haunt me again and again.
I wish that the medication I’m taking didn’t make me gain weight.
I wish that I hadn’t had to spend four and a half months in the psych ward.
I wish I could concentrate enough to do anything I wanted.
I wish that I could say that everything is fine.
I wish sirens and loud noises didn’t scare the hell out of me.
I wish I could look at a government office without my stomach turning.
I wish I could trust myself.
I wish I could answer the phone.
I wish I didn’t want to run and hide every time the doorbell rings.
I wish I didn’t disappoint my friends.
I wish I could get angry at things again.
I wish I had an appetite and a “full” switch.
I wish I never had to worry about having a panic attack again.
I wish everything wasn’t so difficult to do.
I wish I didn’t want to curl up into a ball and hide in the basement.
I wish going out places wasn’t as distressing and difficult as it is.
I wish I was a reliable person again.
I wish I could contribute.
I wish I could look at the door once and trust that it was locked.
I wish I didn’t remember bad things from work so vividly.
I wish I could enjoy thunderstorms again.
I wish I wasn’t scared about what the future holds.
I wish I felt better.
I wish this stuff didn’t happen to anyone.