A keeps calling and emailing me. Three voicemails and two emails since Thursday.
I want to scream at her to leave me the fuck alone. I didn’t go to therapy because I didn’t WANT to go to therapy. I’m never coming back to therapy. I’m never coming back to life. If I wanted to talk to you, I would’ve, you know, come to therapy. But I didn’t go because I didn’t want to talk, so learn some fucking boundaries and leave me the fuck alone.
I say I want someone to take care of me, but I can’t even let anyone care about me. That’s pretty fucked up.
I told C I’d be safe until Monday. I don’t think that’s going to work. I can’t make anything work. The only reason I’m even still alive right now is guilt, and that never works for very long.
Things aren’t getting better. Things aren’t going to get better. Miracles don’t happen to people like me. The best I can do is hope the people I care about don’t hate me forever once I can’t hold on anymore.