2023-04-08
I'm tired. I'm scared. I'm unable to handle myself most days. I'm a shut-in. I'm isolated.
Most days I don't even know the point of being awake. So many days I wish I could just keep myself asleep so I don't feel anything while unconcious.
I'm almost incapable of the work I've specialized in, and my backup job doesn't pay enough to support me. I struggle to even start searching for another.
My antidepressants make me feel depressed more consistantly, instead of massive spikes. I think I would rather the spikes sometimes. It feels fake.
I'm always uncomfortable in my body, even with the progress i've made. I can't afford to do anything more.
I feel unlovable. My brain tries to convince me all my friends hate it when I'm myself more. I don't know how to socially interact normally.
Even if I try to improve, try to get better, try to dig myself out of this, I can't seem to keep it up. On days I'm happy, the nights always end with me crying or drugging myself to fall asleep.
All I know how to talk about is my issues or things people don't care about or messing up with social cues or misunderstanding what people mean.
Most of the time I feel like I have to many flaws to be loved. Or to many flaws to love someone else properly.
I try so so hard to get better. I try to act alright. I try to help myself get better. It never works out.
Most nights I feel like drinking so much I don't feel anything, even if that's the one thing I can stop myself from doing most of the time.
I feel like a passenger in my own brain.
I don't know how to reporgram my brain to stop doing things, to stop thinking things, to stop it from torturing itself.
But I keep living. Because I'm loved by people, and I'm scared of hurting people who don't deserve to be hurt.
There's so much I still want to do, and experience. But I can't get myself to ever even work towards experiencing those things
I lived a large portion of my life trying to act different, trying to not be weird, trying to make myself comfortable with myself, and I've gotten far. There's such a long way to go still, and I don't know how much longer my urge to live will last.
I'm so scared of wasting myself away, and yet that's all I ever feel like doing. I'm scared of being by myself and losing everything. I'm scared what happens when people get tired of me being tired and scared. I'm scared of the repricussions of being myself.
I want to get better, but I don't want to get better. I love my body yet I hate it. I love my friends yet my brain projects a horrible image onto them. I'm scared things won't get better, yet rarely make an attempt to try. I don't know what to do.
So I do all i can do. I do the smallest things, what seems like the bare minimum. I do as much as I can get myself to. I continue to try, no matter how small it is. It keeps me in a place where I'm well enough to be okay but bad enough to not be okay. I can barely process my own emotions properly anymore.
I just cry, hug a stuffed shark, take sleep aids, and hope things will be better the next day, no matter how much I don't want to be awake the next day.
I want to be loved, and I want to love, but I can't even feel happy when I see people i love since I convince myself they felt uncomfortable around me. Convince myself that they hate a lot about me.
I need help. I don't think I can do this anymore
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