Sometimes I want so badly to be able to give up. I don’t seem to have it in me anymore, though. To give up, that is. When I try to, it lasts maybe about five seconds before I find hope and perseverance welling up from some indefinable source within me, and I am set right back on the road of dedication and endurance again. It’s like it’s not even me doing it.
When I was stuck on stupid with the drinking and the relapsing, it was the same, but in reverse. Then it was like no matter what I tried to do differently, the wrong things always ended up happening anyway. The wrong choices ended up getting made regardless of what I did or what I tried to do, and nothing seemed to be able to change that.
Anyways, I guess the point is that nowadays, no matter how hopeless things feel or how confused or afraid I am, I can’t seem to stop hoping. I can’t seem to stop trusting. I can’t seem to stop moving forward. Not for the life of me.