I keep waking up thinking it’ll all be better, it was only a bad dream.
It isn’t. It wasn’t.
Unraveling at the fucking seams, I swear.
I’m stifling myself, I feel like I’m suffocating, I can’t branch out, I’m awful, I’m horrendous, I can’t do this, I’m so tired, I’m so judgemental, I can’t stop thinking and thinking and making connections and thinking more and it’s so fucking exhausting.
I feel like I have no skills. I don’t deserve to be here. I can’t do any of the things I want to do. I can’t climb these mountains. I am blinded by fear. Fear of failure, fear of loss, fear of confrontation, fear of slipping into becoming someone I shouldn’t be.
I can’t handle this.
I can handle this.
Here’s how I can’t.
Here’s how I can.
There’s a roadblock, there’s another; there’s a detour, there’s a relaxing scenic route to take my mind away from this.
I am miserable, and I have been molded to be this way by myself, my illness, and everyone around me.
How the fuck does anyone manage to live like this, how the fuck is a brain even supposed to operate
I will be stable.
Not sure if I’ll just burn out before then.