Boy do I have nothing to say. I have been such a mess for what feels like forever. I'm skipping class like crazy. I'm not doing my work. I'm not listening to music. I'm dissociating constantly. I'm not eating like at all, except when I'm bingeing at 4 am. I just can't ever sleep. I'm sick every single morning. I am depressed, to put it simply.
This morning it hit me especially hard. I went to only one class, after skipping so many all week. I felt so shitty when I got home. I had a horrible pit in my stomach. I got home and exchanged timid pleasantries with my roommates who were standing around my door. I shut my door, threw my stuff on the ground, took off my pants, and laid on my bed and cried. I cried quietly but hard, a deadly combo. I cried until I passed out. I slept all day. I got up to go to a club meeting, then came back and laid down again. It feels horrible. I feel like I'm stuck. I feel nothing and everything, which is stupid and cringe.
I should start taking my medication again, but its hard. It makes me narcoleptic levels of tired. I can barely get through the day I get so tired. But I should take it anyway, its either be unbearably tired or shockingly suicidal. I guess I'll just never win. Being mentally ill sucks balls. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. That's a lie I totally would.
I feel really bad about you and the R***** stuff. I completely know how you feel, which is sucky. It's hard to get that stuff to leave your brain. There's this quote about grief that is really similar to what J***** said to you;
"How do you process grief? By running from it until it finds you in the middle of a sunny street on a beautiful day"
It's true, though that's hard for me to admit. My 20 year old troubles will not plague me forever, and the same is true for you. The only way through it, is through it. It sucks now and you'll spend months thinking back on it and reading poems that make you think of her, and you'll smell specific smells that'll make your eyes water, but then it'll be a ghost of a thought. And if it's any comfort, I'll be here with you the whole time. I'm sure it's not much, but there's comfort in numbers, or something like that.
I don't know what I want. I don't know what I'm going to do. Things are just going to happen to me. I know that's bad, but I can't help it. One thing I need to get over is my teenage sense of discipline. That being none. I can't get myself on a schedule. I can't bring myself to do things. It's pretty bad and embarrassing.
This wattpad is bad. I feel bad. Life sucks. I love you.
