so many times... so many times I find myself teetering on the edge and turning back to want to ask, "why do you hate me? why do you cut me out, second-guess me, doubt me, think so little of me?"

then I bite my tongue and stare straight ahead into the nothingness.

because my mind replies for you, "why shouldn't they hate me? I've screwed it up. I deserve nothing, not even grace."

teach me how to escape. teach me how to get away from all this and yet to also walk away from the edge.

so finally, someone spoke to me.

finally, someone had the guts to point out my character flaws and show me why I was excluded, avoided, ignored...

and it's never felt better.

to have someone tell me that I was lacking. to tell me that I'm complacent and incompetent and all in all, an out-of-control asshole. instead of the person I always thought I reflected: someone with strong work ethics. all that is just bullshit I used to lied to myself with.

I've always wondered why people treat me the way they do and to have someone tell it to my face has lifted one load off my shoulders and put another. one that I am willing to carry and determined to lessen on my own. the burden of being a scum and leaving people frustrated with me.

my only wish is that someone had been brutally honest with me from the start. but my obnoxious character had prevented all that. it's still my fault and now this is something I need to fix.

my mom was right from the start. I am my own enemy and the only reason why I'm on meds now. there's no excuse for my situation except for my own failings and shortcomings.

so many things I can do now. I can watch myself. start penciling more of these thoughts and ways to improve myself. start my therapy sessions and monitor the mood swings and drowsy state that the meds put me through.

It's 2016 and I'm determined to recover and find a better me through God's grace. let's go.

I want to cry and want to not cry at the same time. Damn you, Prozac.

can't wait for 21/12. time to figure out what's really wrong with me and try to remember that girl on fire.

i wish there was a clear warning a few hours before an attack happens.


or i'm going to lose my mind pretty soon.

all these little fucking mistakes that piss me off and piss everyone off..

inadequate. useless. what am i even doing besides making life hard for others.


seriously better off gone. less problems.

i should invest in laughing gas.

not that i need to be constantly smiling. the meds have been working. but if i still can't create a void where emotions don't matter, i might as well look into creating a safehouse.

assuming of course that a nice tank will be cheaper than the current meds. damn you, insurance criteria!

I wish the drugs would work much better... or at least the way I want them to.

so I nearly had a meltdown from the anticipation of a getting-to-know-you meeting with my new boss.

a meltdown. headaches. nausea. the insane need to throw up and/or pee over everything.

a meltdown.

after the meeting, i took a break with the boss-man and i told him about it. he laughed and reminded me that i was not "an anti-social psychopath" but simply an "introvert".

so i'm an introverted nutjob. ok.

second sleepless nights of the drugs not working like they used to. can't wait for the next appt.

perhaps I'm finally losing it.

I need to change the things that I'm reading. Time to hit the library to finally pick up that book I've been eyeing.

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired

I know right now, you don't care