Bardo

I am now in the third day of a severe depressive episode. It is not just sadness and it is not just grief and it is not just alienation of my life here. It is I am no longer Bruce. I hear the name and it is not me anymore. How do I explain this? That I am no longer me? Don't call me Bruce anymore. How do I tell my own mother I am not the one she birthed? How do I tell my brothers they are not my kin? How do I walk away from this life without a fight? There is nothing I would die for except to get away from a life which is wrong for me. I miss the ones who knew me once before I started to die again. Now it is too late to reclaim what was never mine at all. I don't know how I ever imagined a life for myself.I guess I was better then. Now I can see the truth and I am no longer a man. I hate the man I am supposed to represent. No one knows what it is like and I won't bother them with my confusion.I am so sick of trying to understand myself in this hell place. I am now a stranger to myself. It will easier once I am gone.At least for me the pain will end. I am tired of asking for help and I am tired of having no hope and watching the world die as I helplessly and ineffectively lose my way. I put this up so no one has to drag out my journals to find out I am a fake never expressing myself as to be polite and not to be a burden to my family and friends. Thanks for all of you who left me alone to die in peace. I have no resentments nor anger for those who missed my efforts to make a difference. It was a sad effort to overcome the generations of warriors designed for nothing but wars. I almost made it if I only would have died sooner. I missed the war so I have to make the kill myself.