December 3rd, 2024
I thought October would've been the worst of it remembering the abuse shit. Then there was November. First, nothing, then, I felt lucidly aware that I was exactly where I was last November. Aimless, hopeless, gutless. It's like I'm watching a reel of film and an uncanny copy of it at the same time. It's like a shark, approaching twice striking once.
I don't think I ever truly stopped thinking about killing myself. I think I just internalised that my life going downhill over the last five years, with no sign of stopping, will just end in death.
Some days it feels like I need to let down the people who care about me. As in, "Everything that you might've conceived was going well for me has now gone sour."
Therapy in 11 hours and I wish I could sleep for all of them but I probably won't.