Being alive is not living

The movies are bullshit, no one is gonna fucking fight for you because you have it bad. No one is going to hold your shaking fucking hands or wipe the tears streaking down your red face. They won't hold you, or force up the pills, or make you feel worth a damn. They'll let you smoke and drink and pill pop yourself until you can't see straight and you're collapsed in your room or an alley or somewhere you don't recognize. Fucking superhuman love and hero complexes don't exist for people where I'm from. As long as you cover your shit in public and no one outside closed doors is affected or noticed the shit you do to yourself, everything is fuckin peachy. So you keep doing what you do and somehow survive even though you can't seem to draw a full breath into your lungs. You keep reminding yourself to be grateful that you are even alive, but there's a difference between surviving and living.