I just hand wrote the most annoying journal entry I’ve done in a while like idk why it just pissed me off maybe it’s because my brain things notebook is like… small and my handwriting is awful and idk

im just like curled here in a ball like I’ve been basically for the last week every time I’ve been home. which is a lot, because I didnt work on Monday bc my fucking shoulder went batshit and I had to get another damn steroid shot and I didn’t work Wednesday either bc I had a jellyfish meltdown as I’ve now titled them bc they involve a lot of tears and other gross things and I wasn’t meant to work Tuesday anyway but I was obv debilitated bc shoulder and whatnot

but like

I’m a fucking piece of shit

that’s it that’s what this post is about and that’s it

i am literally just….a piece of shit and a massive fuck up

im an absolutely fuckin awful friend and idk why I can’t just be fucking better at it. I hate it. I hate that I fucking hurt the people I care about because ??? I’m a piece of shit. im actually shit with words and awful at basically everything and then things happen and go to shit and it just. everything and everyone around me gets dragged around in my shitstorm and it’s like my bad vibes just infect them. I’m fucking patient zero of this epidemic of negativity.

and yet I still don’t have the sense or decency or whatever to like totally quarantine myself???

I hate wanting and I hate being needy and I hate turning everything to shit

but like

I know that relationships don’t fix mental illness or I’d still be in my last one and probably engaged and that is a train of thought I’m stopping THERE because I’m gonna cry again anyway

I know that the bad shit in my head that the doctors are mixing their chemical cocktails for isn’t gonna just go away when someone calls me theirs or whatever. because that’s not how it works and if it did then BOY HOWDY wouldn’t life be fuckin easier.

but like I still crave it, I still want it, I still get sad and angsty and lonely.

being lonely and that feeling of like… sitting in the car after work or getting a massive ass needle into my goddamn shoulder and knowing that when I get home there’s not gonna be hugs and affection and whatever the fuck else is good about having a human. it just makes the rest of it worse.

having someone who kills that loneliness isn’t fixing my mental health and I’m not saying it will, I’m saying that it’s at least helping some part of that. that its taking that particular strain of bad vibes out of the equation so the real roots of the problems can be picked apart and torn out accordingly.

I miss calling or texting on lunch breaks just to say hello and check in and have a bit of cute shit to get through. I miss coming home at the end of whatever kinda day it’s been and having that warmth.

I miss being wanted. I miss it so fucking much.