(no subject)
What in God's name made me think I was capable of helping anyone when I can't even help myself? Jesus Christ, I think I'm trying to help Jon where I couldn't help Crane. And surprise, surprise: it's not working.
Leland got me to a point where I no longer actively try to kill. That doesn't mean I'm well. Which I'd be fine with, personally, if it wasn't also affecting the people I care about.
I can't possibly offer comfort to another human being because I'm too emotionally stunted. On a good day I'm not a raging asshole. But I can't do this, this... whatever this is. I can't talk about my problems without escalating them and I can't listen to other people's problems without being monumentally unhelpful.
It was a nice delusion. Felt good to be needed for once. But I'm no one's white knight and it was foolish for me to even try.
That's not to say I won't keep trying. I just know how hopeless it is now.
Leland got me to a point where I no longer actively try to kill. That doesn't mean I'm well. Which I'd be fine with, personally, if it wasn't also affecting the people I care about.
I can't possibly offer comfort to another human being because I'm too emotionally stunted. On a good day I'm not a raging asshole. But I can't do this, this... whatever this is. I can't talk about my problems without escalating them and I can't listen to other people's problems without being monumentally unhelpful.
It was a nice delusion. Felt good to be needed for once. But I'm no one's white knight and it was foolish for me to even try.
That's not to say I won't keep trying. I just know how hopeless it is now.