m’guts.
sleeping in my own bed again~ please please please can I wake up when my first alarm goes off please
.. everything I want to write is just me demanding more of myself. which, like, I want to do, but haven’t had a great record of success just making demands and trying to plan. tonight I let myself dick around and failed to make a single thing. it was mildly novel and even enjoyable, pleasant at times, but … i don’t know. i don’t know how i could have better spent my time, only that when i see myself in the mirror, i’m unhappy. today was another day of daydreaming about self-improvement possibilities–this time, I thought about volunteering at a food bank or some shit, spending my time around other people, just fucking showing up and doing something that loosely connects to some kind of “community” of people who live around here and give a shit. or maybe they don’t, who knows? maybe i would go to a food bank and find only a gaggle of pre-meds trying to fill a prereq, or something.
anyway i’m fat and ugly and don’t know shit and have no friends and getting out my scalpel sounds really fucking tempting tonight. if someone happened to notice blood through my clothes tomorrow, at least it would be fucking interesting. right up until some shitbag nt str8 boy called me ps*cho or whatever term they want to stand in for “i have no grasp whatsoever of the variety of mental illnesses and developmental disabilities that can have particular symptoms, and love dismissing people I know as abstracted stereotypes!”
why am i bothering attempting to talk
why am i here
i am not worth existing
P.S. yeah, i should definitely try to find a doctor and get on some fucking wellbutrin.