Standard Disclaimer – nothing here is mine beyond the word use.
This is an experiment in writing angst; it's not really a genre I'm any good with.
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It isn't easy being me, juggling personal responsibility, years of pain, work that erodes my soul and a mental state a generous psychiatrist once described as delicate.
In fact that last factor was what decided me on writing this summing up. Rather than acting as a suicide note or a depiction of my state of mind it will let me see things more clearly and help me vent my feelings. That's the theory at any rate.
What do I feel? I can go days, weeks even without feeling anything more than washed out imitations of real emotion beyond the constant exhaustion that plagues me and the indefinable yearning that itches at the back of my mind. Other times white-hot rage cascades through me, I rail impotently against the powers that be who toy with me so sadistically. Other times I am buried in depression, having to force myself out of bed to work. None-the-less I do my best to remain kind and somewhat human, even if it is a pale, withdrawn and solemn mockery of humanity.
Nana's innocence, her desperate, burning need for both acceptance and approval despite her constant abuse hurts. To take her chin in my hand and talk in that half-true half-false parody of tender concern destroys me inside. The knowledge of number 35 – had I killed her would my wife's death have been justified? In the end I was a coward, unable to fulfil my duty and as a result she died alone, afraid and in mental and physical agony. All for nought.
The way 35 is used, a leash and punishment for me, to constrain and keep in line the best Director the Diclonius Research Centre has had enrages me. I chafe at the bonds, too heartsick to work here with good cheer and enthusiasm any longer. Their chain is too harsh and only serves to work against them. One day they will see the futility of their actions, both against me and in general response to the Diclonius threat. I will be vindicated, my Cassandra-like railings against their idiotic optimist and childish power grabbing will unfold and who will be able to stand before the threat without trembling?
I would beg any deities existent to have mercy upon me and to deliver me from this Hell on Earth, but I fear I am beyond such mercy. So before I toss this paper into the flames I beg of you… help me see a way out of this. I cannot atone, except with my pain. Please… help.