Alphonsus Log: Stardate 1286.5 - possible trigger

Twice last night I started making a new journal entry.  Twice last night I took actions which, either accidentally or clumsily, sent my words, my emotions, my feelings, into cybernetic non-existence.  This it parallels who I am...who I have become.  A temporary quantum varience in the space time continuum. A meaningless fluctuation, which will soon enough fade into the random background noise of that which we call reality. I've been falling.  Falling for some time.  Falling from my potential.  Falling from my own will, my passion, my desire to be more than the random.  My mind is a fog of desperation buried under layers of confusion and inaction.  I suffer from a senility not of the mind but of the soul.  My passion, my lust for life, is that which fades.  The desperation is trapped within.  No avenue of escape that has not been tried and tried and tried again.  I fall, and I don't even have the will to reach out for ledges to slow my descent.  I fall passionlessly into a black hole of oblivion. My epitath will read two words...the summary of my life and all that will need to be said.  Unrealized potential. Yesterday I received a verbal reprimand at work.  It was long, long over due.  It contained words that were written exactly what one would expect to write of someone suffering from a senility of will.  Receiving it crushed my insides a bit...but my insides have already be quite squeezed inot a non-moving solidity. So I deam this entry a call forhelp, knowing that most will be helples before it.  No one knows how to help me...I myself haven't a clue.  I will gladly reach out to any hand extended to me...willingly fall into any arms willing to catch me.  But I can only guess from experience that the hands will be too far to reach...that no arms will be able to arrest my fall, so foggy has become my very existence. A cry of desperation for an intervention that I can dream of, but the nature of the intervention is beyond my scope of understanding, and, I fear, beyond the scope of the good, kind souls here. What love I am capable of, I give to thee. Alphonsus