My life is good. On paper my life has been great. Since forever. I mean, there's some things I could argue were less-than-ideal (and maybe I'm downplaying it). But, compared to the lives of so many people around me, it's nothing.
It just feels like one day I started getting Feel Like Shit For No Reason syndrome, developed suicidal thoughts and tendencies, and have been stuck in a cruel of cycle of feeling normal- good, even - to 'there I go, losing it all again. let's obsessively contemplate suicide until it magically becomes not the only thing we can think about.'
I don't know, I guess it's just really funny.
I want to talk about it with people. But I can't. I can't be another shitty thing happening in their lives. I can't do that to them.
Why can't I just be normal? I am normal. There's nothing wrong with me. There shouldn't be. Granted, I've never had a therapist, but how could I? I'm busting my ass trying to maintain savings past paying for my daily commute to uni. I can't get a therapist knowing that it took my paycheck of shittily sparse part time work to pay for just one session.
I just don't know what to do. I don't know if I'm fully giving up, but my degree doesn't guve me any fucking time to think. Every day I sluggishly go through the motions without going above and beyond is falling behind, and more work for future me -if I ever get better. (i will. i always do)
And isn't that funny? Every time the clouds part and some semblance of normalcy returns, you're left to pick up the pieces of the you that was stuck frozen in a rut. And once you've done that, you've expended half your time before you're plunged into the deep end of fucking nothing again.
Sorry for the goddamned essay. I just. ugh. I thought I was past this shit. It only passes for long enough for me to get comfortable.
It just feels like one day I started getting Feel Like Shit For No Reason syndrome, developed suicidal thoughts and tendencies, and have been stuck in a cruel of cycle of feeling normal- good, even - to 'there I go, losing it all again. let's obsessively contemplate suicide until it magically becomes not the only thing we can think about.'
I don't know, I guess it's just really funny.
I want to talk about it with people. But I can't. I can't be another shitty thing happening in their lives. I can't do that to them.
Why can't I just be normal? I am normal. There's nothing wrong with me. There shouldn't be. Granted, I've never had a therapist, but how could I? I'm busting my ass trying to maintain savings past paying for my daily commute to uni. I can't get a therapist knowing that it took my paycheck of shittily sparse part time work to pay for just one session.
I just don't know what to do. I don't know if I'm fully giving up, but my degree doesn't guve me any fucking time to think. Every day I sluggishly go through the motions without going above and beyond is falling behind, and more work for future me -if I ever get better. (i will. i always do)
And isn't that funny? Every time the clouds part and some semblance of normalcy returns, you're left to pick up the pieces of the you that was stuck frozen in a rut. And once you've done that, you've expended half your time before you're plunged into the deep end of fucking nothing again.
Sorry for the goddamned essay. I just. ugh. I thought I was past this shit. It only passes for long enough for me to get comfortable.
