13,022 Days Alive
Fair warning: heavy topics hereafter: it has been brought to my attention that being actively suicidal means my meds aren’t working. I thought it was something wrong with me. I’m not unhappy, per se, at least not more than usual. I mean, I’ve even had some good days recently.
I have a lot to look forward to. The Dalí Museum in March. Getting my ADHD testing in March. Getting my second dose of the COVID vaccine, also in March.
But today, at least a particular hour of it where I had to carve out my traumas and put them on display for this new provider, was not easy.
It was not easy trying to bounce back afterwards. My focus was shot. I felt like shit mentally. Oh, and I have “an unspecified eating disorder”. Which I’ve kind of expected/known, but I hate words being put to it.
I just… want it to stop. But it won’t. So I have to keep going till it kills me or I find something that works.
That’s all I have in me tonight. Take your meds, folks.
Postmark Wonderland 