Is life really worth the trouble?


I have reached a point where I don’t see a reason to go on.

I need to spend money I don’t have to replace my car’s battery and fit new tyres. I was sort of prepared for the tyres, although that would’ve meant I max out my credit card and be twice as deep in financial worries as I am now. Since yesterday afternoon I’ve been having trouble with the battery, and of course there aren’t any places open on a Sunday. Not that I’d be able to get anywhere even if they were open. So now I have to use my last petrol money for the month. I’m supposed to be in Pretoria next weekend, and there are still three weeks until the next pay day. One way or another, I’m fucked over good and proper.

I’m miserable. I hate my job & circumstances, but there is nothing I can do about this. I have to work in order to just, at least, try to pay everything that needs paying.

I take two strong antidepressants each day in an effort to carry on and not let life get me down too much. For the last two weeks it’s not working, and I am ready to give up. Because I really don’t see the point of all this anymore.


About Syllable

A frugal shopaholic called Syllable: Intelligent, skeptic, curious, naïve, passionate, moody, honest, creative, obsessive & obsessed. A dreamer, a worrier, a writer, a reader, a listener, an observer. My little site of fiction:

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