It's Not Easy Being Green

May 11, 2016 11:16

I really hate being inside my head sometimes. Yesterday I spent ages crying because I'm going to die alone. My internal voice has somehow decided that 30 is clearly over the hill, and it's too late to find somebody to love me so I might as well crawl into a ball and just be the creepy lady with the birds.

I kind of get it - the probability of finding somebody who Gets Me is pretty slim. Still, I could do without hours of abuse about it.

I'd like to find someone who Gets Me. Not even necessarily in a romantic sense. Just so I didn't feel so alone all the time. Of course I'm still me - I have a list of all the things I need to do in order to increase the likelihood of making new friends, but there's a very long timetable on that.

Part of me feels guilty for wanting children. I feel like it's selfish of me, given I don't expect to live for very long. That's not a "I'm going to kill myself" thing, that's a "I'm in very poor health" thing. My concern about being a parent is that it's irresponsible if I won't be around for long enough. Then there's the concern that my mental health is genetic - it's cruel to pass on genes that could cause this kind of pain.

Living is so exhausting.

angst

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