i'm starting to think again that recovery isn't possible and that good days are just days where my world isn't ending. it is almost impossible to think anything else.
whenever i think i'm on the up i quickly hit rock bottom again. but this time the bottom is lower than it ever has been and i don't think theres a way out of this one. it feels like this is where i will be forever, and maybe it will maybe it won't. even if it isn't when i come up from the bottom i'll have nothing to show for it. i tell myself pushing everyone away is best for me to work on myself but really i think it's just a way of pushing everyone away, and it's a really good one at that. i don't know what to do.
my doctor won't help. not that i'm surprised but everytime i force myself to make that call i wonder why i ever did. i feel too guilty to burden my friends with the thoughts of my brain on my worst nights, my tonights. so i say i'm coping when i'm not. i say i'm doing fine just after another relapse or another glass of wine. i say it will be better soon as i contemplate whether this is worth it anymore.
my brain is constant thoughts. constant thoughts that bring up so much anxiety that i don't know what to do with. i just want a moment of quiet. a moment where i don't think about how i ruined everything and i still don't know what i even did in the first place. a moment where i don't fear everyone finding out i'm not as clean as they thought i'd be because how do you tell someone your 18 months is actually 24 hours. i thought i would be past this by now. i'm soon going to reach a point where self harm has been my enemy for half my life and the idea of that makes me want to not exist even more.
they say it's a bad day but not a bad life. but how many more bad days can i take? i can't remember the last time i had a good day that ended as a good day. a good day where my mental health didn't take the reigns.
the worst part is i'm trying. i have been trying. i've been trying to get medical help, i've been doing things that help my brain rather than sabtotaging it. but what does any of that matter when i'm here right now. at 5am wondering whether i can do this for another day as i chug my vodka wine mixture even though i have a killer headache. wondering whether it's even worth it.
wondering how i tell my mum. my dad. wondering if it's even worth talking about it.
i've felt this all before. it's all gone away before but i'm struggling to believe it will go away this time. i'm tired. and i don't know how to make it stop.
