3:58 a.m.

It is 3:28 a.m. on Sunday morning November 17 2013 and I am deeply sad.

I have to get up at 6:30 for work. I haven't looked too closely at the schedule but I think I am about to begin another one of those torturous ten day stretches. 10 consecutive at Lompoc.

Every second I spend at this job is torture for me. Ten consecutive days ruins me.

Since I am up so early I am going to lay some truth on you.

Just to let it out.

The blood pressure thing knocked me for a loop. I am angry. I am afraid. I am exhausted. I am ripped apart on the outside and crushed on the inside.

I am so lost, so trapped in this life that is not my own that I don't know where to turn. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to get out of it.

I don't know how much longer I can handle it.

The sadness I feel is soul deep. It is incapacitating me.

I don't sleep well. I don't do anything well.

I am hoping to marshall some secret force inside me to combat this overwhelming sense of loss. I have been off balance since Thursday when Dr. Feelgood gave me the doomsday diagnosis. Very much off balance. I just picked up the medication yesterday. Yeah, I have been procrastinating. Actually I just didn't give a shit.

I'll pop my first pill this morning.

This is a moment. I am at a crossroads. I have to drastically change my life. I am not talking about wearing flashier socks.

I am talking major change. In my habits in my body and in my head.

I have to flee this job. I don't give a damn about what all you gratitude people say. Nothing about this job can justify the harm it is doing me.

If my life were truly my own I would just walk away from the fucking job.

But somebody else owns my life.

I know I have to change. My soul tells me this. Giving up would be so much easier  but that indomitable human will to live trumps all.

For now I am sad. Every cell in my body weeps. I feel broken. I feel like I don't belong in this world.

I hate with the most venomous hate there is - my life.

It is a stupid thing to me. It is incomprehensible to me.

It is getting worse. I am becoming an old man with a tray full of prescription pills and a head full of dead dreams.

I see the old ones come through the store all the time with their fifty year old kids talking to them like they are children.

I wonder every time I see it, how long before I am there.

I have said it a million trillion times in this blog. I don't have time to waste.

The urgency is more intense than ever.

I will deal with it or not. I don't even know what to expect from myself.

But for now I am sad. Just that. Sad. Hurting in a muted, incapacitating way.

It is now 3:58 a.m. It is a good time to be sad.

I am not inconveniencing anybody else.