My mom OD'd 6 years ago when I was a Freshman in college. She begged that I go to State but I had to get out. The day she died I had ignored two of her phone calls. I didn't even know she had a drug problem. I mean I knew, but I didn't know it was a problem. Now I work a career job in a fast-paced industry and my biggest fear is that someone will someday see the black mass of hurt inside of me. That the sludge of self-hatred and regret, of helplessness and isolation will begin to seep out of my body and everybody will realize that the past 6 years have been a lie. That I am not this ambitious yuppie but rather a caricature that I picked up watching too many sitcoms.

I wish I could tell you that it gets better, but I can't. The hole still exists and it seems to be getting worse as the distractions begin to lose their sheen. Booze doesn't do it anymore, women don't do it anymore, I have lost my keys to fantasy.

My advice it to talk to someone. A life-long friend of mine drowned unexpectedly (I guess most drownings are unexpected...) last year and it was huge for me to have the support of mutual friends helping each other through it. When my mom died I was the only one still talking about it a week after the wake. Even if it is artificial, if you have to go to a counselor or a shrink, just go and talk to someone. Shit like that can be like a gangrenous appendage on the soul. You let that hate, that fear and confusion, that immense sadness weight down on your soul until you become paralyzed by it. Don't play video games with people on here, don't try to drink it away, don't try to fuck it away - just go and talk with somebody, face to face.