I wanted to write something eloquent, but I’m angry. I’m sick of wading through all the shit from my past that clings to me in the present and crushes any thoughts of the future. I hate being me. I hate myself even for the self-pity in hating being me. I hate that so much that matters to me has become questionable. I’m not sure who I am and what my place is in this world.
Tonight I feel incredibly self-destructive. My suicidal thoughts are getting the better of me. I’ve been fighting them for weeks and I’ve run out of energy to keep pushing back. Every day feels like it drains me more. I’m still having nightmares and flashbacks. I can’t let myself be close to anyone. I assume that everything I feel I’m achieving is ultimately doomed to failure. All the struggles of the past year have just been buying time.
I’m tired. Sorry I’ve not got much else to say.