Look at that! The manic depressive is fighting bears!
Tonight I've given up.
Tonight morals have come crashing down; convictions have lost their conviction.
Tonight I finally accept that my fight is hopeless alone.
Today I'll go back to my therapist at long last, disarmed and frightened. I go weeks, weeks! where I feel fine, where it doesn't bother me. Nights like this void those weeks, and all I want is to forget what happened and what has happened and have some hope for what will happen.
Her words were "Do something." Today I will do something. I'll do the thing I most fear. The thing I have been convicted against. The thing I forsook, and fought without. It's clear I'm losing that fight. It's not a stalemated. I'm not stagnated here. It's getting worse and at this moment I don't care what it takes to make it better. I'll take their damn pills, I'll listen to their damn words, and I'll find something worth swearing on to swear to that I will be better.
Time does not heal all wounds, I guess.
I'm lonely. I feel alone. I am bereft of a sense of friendship, or love, or trust. I will soon be bereft of my self respect, until I can accept that the action I've chosen to take is a positive one. And hooray if it is, but it's hard to be convicted about abandoning a conviction.
Tonight morals have come crashing down; convictions have lost their conviction.
Tonight I finally accept that my fight is hopeless alone.
Today I'll go back to my therapist at long last, disarmed and frightened. I go weeks, weeks! where I feel fine, where it doesn't bother me. Nights like this void those weeks, and all I want is to forget what happened and what has happened and have some hope for what will happen.
Her words were "Do something." Today I will do something. I'll do the thing I most fear. The thing I have been convicted against. The thing I forsook, and fought without. It's clear I'm losing that fight. It's not a stalemated. I'm not stagnated here. It's getting worse and at this moment I don't care what it takes to make it better. I'll take their damn pills, I'll listen to their damn words, and I'll find something worth swearing on to swear to that I will be better.
Time does not heal all wounds, I guess.
I'm lonely. I feel alone. I am bereft of a sense of friendship, or love, or trust. I will soon be bereft of my self respect, until I can accept that the action I've chosen to take is a positive one. And hooray if it is, but it's hard to be convicted about abandoning a conviction.