Because of how often, and the sheer volume of alcohol I consumed, I have no idea what came next. I think it was military service. In basic, I made a few friends, but after a while I could tell they only tolerated me because we shared a room. Conversations suddenly ending when I walked in, awkward glances in my direction, and jokes I was never a part of. Sure, I made it through basic and extended training, but shortly after that I broke down and the cycle of depression hit me harder than ever. Once my friend and I graduated and sent to our base, our girlfriends flew out to see us. Knowing I was going to be deployed, I was a complete ass to her, and broke up with her before she went back home. Faced with deployment, I chickened out and started seeing a therapist. After a few months of cleaning out other people garbage, I was discharged from service for the medical reason of a bad back. At least that's what I tell people. I do have a less than strong back, but truth be told, I was discharged due to mental health. I was prescribed Prozac.

Now that drug, turned me into a mindless person, which for me, may have been a good thing. My dad ended up wiring me money to buy a car, thanks dad. I ended up getting involved with a girl out in Colorado. I lived with her and her mother for a couple of months. Things were good for a while, but when I visited home for a couple weeks I ran out of medication. Which didn't bother me at all, because I was feeling just fine. Fast forward a few more weeks, I turned back into my reclusive self and stopped talking almost completely, and lacked the motivation to get a job. By this time I had run out of money, and I had to come back down to reality. I retreated further into my shell and left back for home. She was devastated; I didn't care at all. Man I'm selfish.

After a while of mindlessly playing video games all night and drinking until I stopped thinking about all the crap that has effected me, my dad got me a job doing low level tech support. He even went so far as to trade in my old, used car for a brand new car that got great mileage. After a few weeks there, my company started getting complaints about how I talked on the phone to them. Sure I wasn't the happiest person in the world, I had a deep voice, and I couldn't help but mumble a lot. I haven't had the most practice of talking to people. They ended up making it so all the calls went through the secretary, which should have been he way it was done in the first place. At least they tried to. My phone still rang a lot, and I tried to be happier on the phone to assist with their problems, but I just wanted the facts to solve their issues. Needless to say I was on the way out, but not before I had one more task. One of the employees there, who would come in for half of the day, three days a week, was moving from a cubicle to an office. They asked if I was doing anything and could move all of his stuff for him. Naturally, as I was never given any cases, and generally try to be nice to anyone who will talk to me, I agreed. My mild OCD even put all of his stuff into his new office EXACTLY the way he had it arranged at his cubicle. Less than a week later, they fired me.

With a little money saved up, I again returned to the drinking and video game cycle. Until, again, my dad got me another job at a scuba shop. I was the tank boy. All I did was fill tanks, and get rental gear ready for the classes. This kind of mindless, semi-physical work was great. I saved up some money and moved out of my parents house. Then, things started to go downhill again. Having never lived in an apartment with bad roommates, I was unprepared for how bad it would be. I used to have pictures on my phone of how filthy it was, but I ended up losing them somehow. Work at the scuba shop was getting more and more involved as well. I was happy to be the lowest level employee, but after not refusing to drive 30 or 40 minutes away to work at other stores, I eventually only worked at the far stores, alone, and had become one of the sales people. I hate sales. I can't stress that enough. There are three kinds of people I truly hate in the world: politicians, lawyers, and salesmen. I couldn't lie to people, or bend/hide truths. I must have lost so much business for the company by actually answering questions truthfully instead of spinning them around and throwing a sales pitch. The only good thing about moving out was I transitioned into the final phase of my life, and things were great.. For a while.

Four years ago, seems like forever, I met her. So much happened in this period of time I can't even remember it all. The first year was great, we did everything together. Sure we had a couple fights, but nothing too serious. Eventually, I started drinking heavily again, to the point of blacking out. Through some kind of miracle, I managed to stop. For a while. The details are sketchy for the next three years, due to my never ending cycle of binge drinking and short lived sobriety. At some point in our relationship we stopped doing everything together. I stopped holding her hand, stopped putting my arm around her, and it felt like our intimacy was all but dried up. Again, I'm foggy on the details, but during this period of time, I had four different jobs, all given to me by family or friends. I still can't believe I managed to luck out with money and work this long. Two of the jobs my dad lined up for me, and the other two were through friends. I currently work at the fourth, and after six months of not being called in, they finally called and said I was up for a full time position. Fantastic news right? Well, in those six months, I stressed myself out to the max. I was so worried about if I would get the job, I started drinking more, and more heavily. Eventually, I ran out of money, causing even more stress. Those six months and the year and a half before them, I was more or less a full blown alcoholic. Regrettably I did drink and drive a few times, but when you don't have any income, or anyone to hang out with, it is easy to stay in and drink, and drink, and drink. It was mostly a blur, but I remember ignoring her, and just wasting time until she went to sleep so I could drink away my stress. Then, I would sleep in until she left for work so I could wake up and start drinking. I'm convinced it was my drinking that caused our relationship to end.

Which brings us to now. I'm done. I've had it. I can't deal with anything anymore. The last few days, I've been floating on, putting on a happy face. But it is so exhausting, I just want it all to go away.

Man, I've gone on for a while. I don't even know where I was going with all this when I started. I guess it is my way of getting almost everything off my chest and saying goodbye, without actually having to go through the pressure of talking directly to anyone's face. Heh, coward until the end.

It is a good thing I did all this when I was in the mood to write, because I haven't been able to add much to it at all.

Last Goodbye.