Just A Young Nigga Eating Cheetos

Should I be concerned that as a damn near 30 year old man if I sit in silence for too long I could probably cry at just about any time?

It’s been 10 years since I attempted suicide. I feel I’ve grown in many ways but also that I lost a lot of myself along the way. Crazy to think I could’ve ended my story at only 17 years old and missed out on so many experiences. But in the same way I built myself up from that just to have my heart/soul ripped out in new ways. I’ve lost loved ones, friends, jobs, cars and even a pet along the way and yet I’m still here. Funny I still feel like inside I’m just that kid speaking into the void asking what’s so hard to love about me? I support and try to inspire everyone around me but I still end up alone. No relationship ever lasts for me but maybe that’s why I’m still around? Maybe I’m meant to keep figuring this shit out until one does? Or maybe I’m not supposed to figure that out? Idk. 10 years have gone by yet I’m still afraid I’m a failure. I’m still afraid of not being remembered. Everything’s so fragile and yet after all this time I’m still moving forward. Still saving for my house. Still trying to make connections with others. Still learning to understand myself better. Starting therapy a few years back really helped but introspection is a process not a race. I know I’m rambling and there’s no real direction with this post but it’s something I needed to let out atleast through this old relatively unused blog. 10 years and counting and I’m still here Mama. I don’t wanna make you cry like I did before. Here’s to reaching 20 right?