I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, I fear. I don’t know, maybe I haven’t. There are so many things I don’t know lately.
I don’t know why I even keep this space, there is never anything new and I feel like an imposter.
I don’t know why I bother to hope. It’s futile. It hurts.
Last night was the worst night I have had in a long time – and this morning I feel as unsupported as ever.
Maybe I am bipolar. The doc is trying to figure out what her picture of me is. Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m just fucked up and no one can or will help.
I’m putting on weight in a way that even I don’t understand. I feel so fat and ugly and unwanted.
Depression is eating me alive – or maybe it’s consuming me dead. Take your pick.
I’m not me anymore. I am a monster.