CW: Being a fucking idiot. (specifically regarding medication) I love you. Go gently.
So, I ran out of my meds… I don’t remember when.*
*I’M FIXING THIS TOMORROW, I ABSOLUTELY PROMISE. I KNOW THIS IS BAD.*
It’s been over a week. Sometimes I get stubborn about them, see. I don’t want them. I don’t want to feel broken, I don’t want to feel crazy.
But here I am again: sobbing and not really functioning. I didn’t do my job today. I didn’t take the notes on my play. I didn’t write the fanfiction I’m supposed to write.
Now I’m drinking some tea and I’m wrapped up in my Spider-Man 2 blanket. I’m shaking again, which I really thought was a thing of the past. It is October of 2020 and it feels like I’ve been having a panic attack for roughly a year.
I don’t want to sleep anymore. I just have nightmares lately. Or worse, I have really good dreams about things that will never be real. I want to drink more than I ever have before. These are the days when the waves feel too heavy and it sounds more pleasant to close my eyes and sink to the bottom and let the turtles find me.
I don’t remember why I came here.
I feel trapped. In this room, in this year, in this body. I touched myself tonight and it felt more like a punishment than anything else.
“I… I… I…” I’m a little fucking conceited, I guess. All the mean things anyone’s ever said about me feel super true tonight.
I think I came here because I’m really lonely, and being here makes me feel less alone. Because you took the time to read this and I’m sorry it isn’t fun jokes about Star Wars or whatever, but I still really appreciate it.
The feel of my own name in my mouth is like vinegar. I consider myself tonight and I just see disappointment and worry. I see someone who just makes people sad. I wanted to do better than that, but I feel like I’ve failed.
My point, always, is this:
I should probably take my fucking medication. I should probably go back to therapy. I should probably start seeing a new therapist just to talk about gender stuff, which, honestly, makes me want to crawl under the bed and never come out again.
Thanks for being here. Sometimes I just need to say it out loud, you know?
Take your meds, drink some water. We’ll try again tomorrow, okay?