This stupid concussion. 3 months ago, I was a very happy person. Not demanding, not needy, I was just content with life and all of its happenings. I was starting to come into my own, I was finally beginning to be social after a life of being an awkward recluse. But now I feel like a downright idiot, and I feel so hopeless in terms of recovery. I'm never gonna have that dream life I wanted with wealth, prosperity, and happiness. I'll never afford that nice house. I'll never have a real relationship. I'll never be successful. Even though I was awkward, and forgetful, and weird, I was very happy with myself because I still had my intellect. People could think I'm strange all they want — but I could still do my thing, so it was alright. Now that has been stripped from me. It feels like someone put a cap on my brain and limited my processing ability. I don't want this. I don't want a new me. I don't want to spend months or years in remission. I don't want to have to pause my life. I either am myself or I die. And it's looking like I die.
I had a pretty good streak going, too. I hadn't genuinely considered suicide since 2019, and I hadn't attempted since I was 6 or 7. Oh well.