wiIIow
Arcanist
- Sep 22, 2018
- 458
I have no idea how I'm going to string my absolute fucking calamity of a thought process into words right now but it's 2 in the goddamn morning and I'm at my wits end
you know, all things considered, I've got my mental illness fairly under control; at least functionality-wise. Kinda. I mean I still can barely hold down a fucking job because of how sick I am, and I've given up on doctors after too much wrestling and enough trauma (good luck getting any damn help or being taken seriously when you're simply a dumb hysterical chick [and double that luck when a doctor botches an unecessary surgery that permanently worsens your pain and then lies about it]). But hey. For the first time in my life I'm in a fullfilling relationship, with someone who offers the understanding I've always craved. Someone refreshingly not manipulative, controlling, obsessive, posessive. It helps. And I am more able to regulate myself in terms of how I interact with others, that's pretty cool.
I'm still absolutely fucking miserable, and that is never going away. I know this, I've known it for a while. I know that sounds like some self fullfilling prophecy type shit. Maybe it is. But I tried to hold out hope, man, I really fucking did. Even when my sickness evolved, and embedded itself more and more deeply into me, I still clung onto that little light inside of me, convinced that it could still turn around.
I learned my fucking lesson, because man, it sure is devastating to have that hope crushed over and over, and over again. I know I've created a lot of my own misery. Much of it was unavoidable. I know I feed into it. But no matter what I do, it's always there. And I only continue to get worse.
I'm just lying in bed thinking about how much unresolved issues I have jam-packed in my head. There is so much shit there. Sometimes I wonder if I've seen the wrong therapists, and the right person could help. But even if there were some miracle person out there that could bring to light a new perspective, ideas for helpful habits that could help me heal; and even if I could find a doctor that would finally listen to me, believe me, and help me figure out why I am so sick and in so much pain... dude, it's not like I could fucking afford that shit. I feel absolutely powerless. There's nothing I can do.
I need a full time job with good benefits so that I can afford to get the help that I need, but without getting the help I need, I can't sustain a full time job. You see where I'm going with this? God I just don't know what a bitch is supposed to do
existing is so awful and I constantly feel as if theres no way I could possibly bear it anymore. But here I am, for whatever reason. cowardice I guess. don't wanna hurt my dad, and admittedly afraid of the experience of dying.
I know how incoherent this shit is. I don't know where I'm going with this. I don't care I guess, if nobody read this that'd be fine by me. Just another late night of screaming into the void. god I want to be dead
you know, all things considered, I've got my mental illness fairly under control; at least functionality-wise. Kinda. I mean I still can barely hold down a fucking job because of how sick I am, and I've given up on doctors after too much wrestling and enough trauma (good luck getting any damn help or being taken seriously when you're simply a dumb hysterical chick [and double that luck when a doctor botches an unecessary surgery that permanently worsens your pain and then lies about it]). But hey. For the first time in my life I'm in a fullfilling relationship, with someone who offers the understanding I've always craved. Someone refreshingly not manipulative, controlling, obsessive, posessive. It helps. And I am more able to regulate myself in terms of how I interact with others, that's pretty cool.
I'm still absolutely fucking miserable, and that is never going away. I know this, I've known it for a while. I know that sounds like some self fullfilling prophecy type shit. Maybe it is. But I tried to hold out hope, man, I really fucking did. Even when my sickness evolved, and embedded itself more and more deeply into me, I still clung onto that little light inside of me, convinced that it could still turn around.
I learned my fucking lesson, because man, it sure is devastating to have that hope crushed over and over, and over again. I know I've created a lot of my own misery. Much of it was unavoidable. I know I feed into it. But no matter what I do, it's always there. And I only continue to get worse.
I'm just lying in bed thinking about how much unresolved issues I have jam-packed in my head. There is so much shit there. Sometimes I wonder if I've seen the wrong therapists, and the right person could help. But even if there were some miracle person out there that could bring to light a new perspective, ideas for helpful habits that could help me heal; and even if I could find a doctor that would finally listen to me, believe me, and help me figure out why I am so sick and in so much pain... dude, it's not like I could fucking afford that shit. I feel absolutely powerless. There's nothing I can do.
I need a full time job with good benefits so that I can afford to get the help that I need, but without getting the help I need, I can't sustain a full time job. You see where I'm going with this? God I just don't know what a bitch is supposed to do
existing is so awful and I constantly feel as if theres no way I could possibly bear it anymore. But here I am, for whatever reason. cowardice I guess. don't wanna hurt my dad, and admittedly afraid of the experience of dying.
I know how incoherent this shit is. I don't know where I'm going with this. I don't care I guess, if nobody read this that'd be fine by me. Just another late night of screaming into the void. god I want to be dead
