A lot of things make me realize what I am.
Right now, I’m a fucked up mess.
I have so much to tell my therapist and doctors about.
I hate this.
I hate breathing.
I hate the fact that I’m still alive.
And I’m suffering.
And I’m hurting.
And it hurts to tell people and to talk about it.
I hate going to all these appointments, taking my meds, and still feeling like this.
Aren’t they supposed to be fixing me?
Why am I still so sick?
Why is it that I can’t even spend a night by myself for fear of harming myself and relapsing or even worse?
I should be worrying about finals and my friends and what I’m going to wear tomorrow.
Not worrying about if I’ll wake up tomorrow.
These are the things that keep me awake a night.
I made a scale last night. I put things on the scale based on how much they worried me/how much happiness they were bringing me.
Work and Calvin are the two most rewarding things right now.
I love my job. I feel good and comfortable there.
Calvin is wonderful. He is simply a wonderful friend and person yet he is so much more. I fall for him more every day.
There were so many things on the left side of the scale though.
So many things much lower on the scale.
I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Let’s just hope I’m going to make it out there alive rather than dead.