I wrote this on the 25th of November. I never published it because I talk about wanting to off myself.
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I don't know what to do. I am mentally fucked. I haven't felt this bad possibly ever, but at the same time, I'm getting all the memories of times I've felt the same. It makes my life seem worse. I think I've struggled a lot harder than I thought I have. Now I don't know what to do.
One time, in high school, I went to see Avengers: Endgame with my friend Alex. We got into a very heated discussion about the movie at the end that eventually ended with him being kind of randomly racist, and I went home feeling insane. Not because of anything. I just felt insane. I remember how it was about to rain, and I remember the dread. It set in, and I couldn't handle it. I sobbed in my parents' bathroom. I didn't do anything for two weeks. I blew every deadline. I remember feeling insane. I remember looking at the other kids wanting to feel like them. I couldn't. I felt insane. This happened a lot. This happened less and less.
My brain feels broken. Like, legitimately broken. I have a month left of the semester. I don't know how I'll live a life. At all. I can't imagine a future anymore.
I drive all night. I never go anywhere. I drive all over Edmonton. I see nothing.
I can't fucking be alone. I keep hanging out with my friends all night because I can not handle being alone. Everyone has been so nice. So nice that I owe them now so much. Jules, Jack, and Rindra, I know we just got ice cream, but I don't know what I would have done if you didn't do that for me. Most of you will move away soon. No matter how far away you end up, if you all ever need anything, I'll be there.
When I'm alone, I'm at my worst. I'm losing it. I have barely described the extent to which I am actually fucked up. I'm losing it.
I can't read. I can't spell. I barely eat. I can't think. I keep forgetting stuff. I sleep all the time. I keep doing dumb stuff. I keep fucking myself over.
I really don't want anyone to think it's their fault. It's nobody's fault but mine. Everyone has been so nice, and I don't want anyone to worry.
I feel so lazy. I'm such a baby. I don't know what to do. I don't know how I can do another week of this. I couldn't handle another day. I could barely handle today.
Whenever I would get sad like this earlier last year, I would imagine having kids because then I would have someone who isn't me to take care of. Now I can't imagine kids. Or a career. I can't imagine having those things like this. I feel so weak I can't even imagine what feeling strong again would feel like.
I feel like nobody can tell how bad I actually feel, and I have no way to explain it. I can't even explain it to myself. I read symptoms of derealization or depression and nothing feels right, even though I'm very clearly describing all the symptoms to a T.
I really don't want my parents to feel responsible when I inevitably tell them about all of this. They will. Anyone parent would. But it's not their fault. I don't know why I'm like this. I keep thinking about unenrolling in all my classes and just driving home to Red Deer and never coming back. I hate the sudden fucking disdain I feel for Edmonton. It feels like everything here has died. I hate the weather. I have never hated snow as much as I do now. When the first snow fell, the grief was unbearable. It was like a nuclear bomb had gone off.
I fucking have no idea how I'll deal with tomorrow. I have none. I have made two big mistakes academically that I promised I never would again. I do not want to lose this. I am an asshole. I have nothing to offer.
I feel like I won't be able to own a gun once I finally turn myself into a psychiatrist. In Canada, if you have a diagnosis of something like depression or bipolar disorder, you aren't allowed to own a firearm. Sensible. But something about not being allowed to do something because I am fucked up makes me sad. It feels like I'm going to rehab. What does life after this look like? Is the worst yet to come?
