1. A sizeable enough proportion of people whose friendship I felt secure enough in - not close, not affectionate necessarily, but secure in - turn out to despise me
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it would be so much easier, if only the problem were you and not a trick of consuming chemical defects, wouldn't it? then there'd be no hope. that'd be easy as anything. what can i do to help?
HAHA true, but goddamn i wish there was something to be done to make you an at least grumpily content personality disorder. it's fine, if you're wildly dysfunctional. everything about you is fine--much, much more than fine, you're amazing and i just assume everyone knows it, but i wish very much for you to not suffer through every day like there's gasoline burning up your synapses (my brother spilled a cup of gasoline on his balls and stopped at a diner, ran into the bathroom, and sat on the sink. he came out with his gasoline-soaked pants down and his nuts raw and red in front of the customers and pathetically asked the manager if he could buy a uniform. they gave him some pants, baffled, and let him go. imagine what it would do to your BRAIN). and i think it's probably really stupid to say "go to a doctor, i think you may have outdone yourself on being crazy" to someone who a) is afraid of doctors, and b) has done that before. but i think that's the extent of my advice (which wasn't even asked for but humans who see their favorite
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The thing about you being horribly depressed right now is that your brain is latching onto a combination of actual problems, horribly pessimistic speculative interpretations of things you don't know, and stuff that people who aren't you can see is really obviously untrue, and using it to both explain your bad feelings and create more.
Yeah, but you can't achieve "Literally everything is a reason to feel shitty" without depression to twist things like "People love and care for me" into another source of pain.
10. I cannot. Stop. Crying. All the fucking time. Every. Single. Day. Crying. It is driving me up the wall.
Ok ok but hear me out
we cry tons and tons, lots of tons, and we raise the water level of the ocean and then we make boats and drift towards each other on our ocean of tears and then we hang out in flower crowns
I'm vacillating at the moment between feeling horribly sad/guilty because people are trying their best to make me happy and I'm aware of that but it seems to be impossible, and being violently angry that I can only get validation when I'm clearly so horribly unhappy that I want to die. I don't know. There doesn't seem to be much point in continuing if this is all I have to look forwards to.
Right now I wish I was obnoxiously wealthy so I could buy you happiness even though I know that's impossible. At the least, I could keep you supplied in quality booze.
I'm too cheap to go buy myself decent booze that I like and Roger doesn't drink the stuff I like and I don't like the stuff he drinks. You live too far away. If you lived close enough to visit on occasion, I'd have a valid excuse to buy whiskey on a halfway regular basis.
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Ok ok but
hear me out
we cry tons and tons, lots of tons, and we raise the water level of the ocean
and then we make boats and drift towards each other on our ocean of tears
and then we hang out in flower crowns
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