Today I was seemingly randomly (although it probably wasn't really random) struck by this feeling of intense dread at the thought of having to face the same sorts of things day after day after day, every day, for the rest of my life. The horror of the endless anxiety and embarrassment and depression hit me full force and I wanted to scream and make a getaway.
I'm not pleased I've been so negative lately. There's no point in talking to anyone about it. I have to hang in there until I get my insurance figured out (that's been the story of this past year...). I rely on the little things to keep me going and to provide meaning, because otherwise I'd be where I was before - staring at the wall utterly dejected and contemplating morbid things.
I'm sick of complaining. I just feel so sad and alone. Don't want to have a pity party though. I'm going to paint my nails.
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... ,,,;l.,.,;',,/,lkmhoi