Empty Bottles

I'm sad tonight. I feel empty. Didn't do me any good being alone all day. Though I'd been wanting it for a while because the constant buzz of kids and work have weighed me down. I should have gone to the gym and lost some of the negative thoughts in the water. It worked last time.
Why do I blog? Who the fuck would want to read something written by a total loser? I search the web looking for funny stuff and interesting stuff to keep me occupied but why? I want to delete it all and forget it. The internet is bad. I'm beginning to see it now. It's becoming evil to me. It's poisoning me. I thought it was my friend but it isn't. It tells lies and draws me in then spits me out and laughs.
I want to hide from it. But this is a common feature of my illness. The need to now go upstairs and find somewhere to hide and cry. See it's hard doing this mental business but seeing and understanding (to a small extent) why you're doing it.
I'm not really well. I should go see the doctor but I said I'd never go there again and now I don't know what to do.
I want my friends back. I want someone to look after me. I want to stop doing this. I want a hug.

"You'll follow me back
With the sun in your eyes
And on your own
Bedshaped
And legs of stone
You'll knock on my door
And up we'll go
In white light
I don't think so
But what do I know?
What do I know?
I know!

I know you think I'm holding you down
And I've fallen by the wayside now
And I don't understand the same things as you
But I do

Don't laugh at me
Don't look away "