Chapter 5: entry 1(Feb, 29)
first day ima write a diary/journal. my therapist said it will probably help but I'm not sure if he even cares. the guy is retiring in a month so I think he just sits through the meetings with me. I don't blame him I do the same thing if I'm honest. i don't even tell him the truth most of the times so he probably knows that i don't take it seriously either, if i don't care why would he.
I go in and talk to him for like 30 minutes just so my family thinks I'm trying. the truth is I'm sure that I'm going to kill myself eventually. I don't know how but when I'm alone in my thoughts its all I can think about even now. just 2 minutes ago I was thinking of taking a knife putting it against my chest and running into the wall at full speed. it would probably hurt like a birch but I wouldn't die immediately so I would get some towels/blankets to hide the blood so my family doesn't notice till I'm long gone.
I haven't been enjoying the things I like recently. reading feels like a chore and playing games is just boring. I go out side and feel so anxious that I can't talk. I get in a car and can see myself getting in a crash. I can't even sit in a car in a parking lot without getting paranoid thinking someone is gonna attack me or my family. I don't trust people anymore. I've given up hope for the people of this planet too much is wrong with too many ignoring it.
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i was done writing but something else just happened. i sit downstairs alone cause it feels good to be out of my room. but my anxiety kills me if i'm in the same room with other people and we aren't doing something. so i was sitting downstairs from like 4 am to 6:30 am and my mom comes down and i try to sit there, i really do, but its so hard. my whole body yells at me to leave. i cant concentrate on anything, everything just becomes distracting. so i get up when she goes to feed our cat and get a cup of cereal, we are out of milk, and some water, in a separate cup...i'm not an animal, and say, "ima head up stairs, to my room". she just looks at me and starts crying. i don't know what the fuck i'm supposed to do. i cant change the way i am and it hurts everyone around what the fuck am i supposed to do. i cant apologize cause it makes it worse and i cant explain it. all it does it hurt people around me. i wish i could just fucking disappear and die. i wouldn't be a bother to my family, i wouldn't hurt them, they wouldn't have to waste their money on my medical bills or my meds. i feel like everything about their lives would be better. of course they would mourn for a bit but they would get over it. i know they will, they seem to get over tough shit fast, i don't feel like i would be any different.
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