The website wasn't showing up on Google anymore. The old website wasn't working. For about 10 seconds I thought the website was gone for good. During those 10 seconds I felt so alone, so lost, so misunderstood by the world at large, by society. And then I found the new domain name and I felt a huge sense of relief. I hope they never succeed in taking this website away. I need this. I'm mentally ill. I have a mood disorder. I can't go anywhere else to say how I really feel. Everyone always wants to fix, fix, fix, without ever understanding. And that feels so lonely. They want to fix because they're not comfortable with discomfort. They want to make it go away. They don't want to face the fact that life, sometimes, sucks. And sometimes it sucks for a person they love, and they can't wave a magic wand and make the suck go away. That's when they start blaming the person, you, for hurting. They blame you, because by hurting you're hurting them, and blame is how they cope. They don't know how else to cope. It's shitty coping mechanisms all the way down and no one can afford therapy.
I wanted to come here because I don't feel good. I'm hurting. But I don't know why exactly. I suspect it has something to do with my mood disorder. I suspect it's not an external cause. Although I could easily come up with external causes if I wanted to. I'm lonely. I'm in love with someone who doesn't feel the same way about me. I'm running out of money. I'm mentally ill. I'm disabled. But none of those things made me hurt a few days ago. I felt good a few days ago. So I think that, maybe, it's my stupid hormones once again, fucking up my mood. It's that feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin, or perhaps tear it off, or perhaps launch myself into a wall. I don't even know what I'm feeling. I won't do any of those things because I know, I'm used to it, this too shall pass. It always does. It's a cyclical disorder. I just have to ride the wave. But oh my God, it is painful. I have to rein in my urges. I have to sit with the discomfort. I can feel it radiating from my chest. I can feel it, like a giant leech on my back, weighing me down, sucking me dry of all pleasure and joy.
Sleeping is difficult. Existing is difficult. Things could be much worse, I know. It's so easy to imagine things being worse, when I feel like this. It's like staring down an infinite pit of ever-worsening suffering. There truly is no end to how much a human being can suffer. And that's terrifying. It feels like I'm free-falling down that hole, but slowly. I'm not experiencing the full force of gravity. I'm slowly floating downward, and I'm waiting to be teleported out by the next hormonal shift. But until then, I'm falling. I'm feeling worse and worse every second. And death is starting to sound appealing again. Just a little, at first. I haven't perfected my medication schedule yet. Maybe soon I can go a whole month without wanting to die.
I wanted to come here because I don't feel good. I'm hurting. But I don't know why exactly. I suspect it has something to do with my mood disorder. I suspect it's not an external cause. Although I could easily come up with external causes if I wanted to. I'm lonely. I'm in love with someone who doesn't feel the same way about me. I'm running out of money. I'm mentally ill. I'm disabled. But none of those things made me hurt a few days ago. I felt good a few days ago. So I think that, maybe, it's my stupid hormones once again, fucking up my mood. It's that feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin, or perhaps tear it off, or perhaps launch myself into a wall. I don't even know what I'm feeling. I won't do any of those things because I know, I'm used to it, this too shall pass. It always does. It's a cyclical disorder. I just have to ride the wave. But oh my God, it is painful. I have to rein in my urges. I have to sit with the discomfort. I can feel it radiating from my chest. I can feel it, like a giant leech on my back, weighing me down, sucking me dry of all pleasure and joy.
Sleeping is difficult. Existing is difficult. Things could be much worse, I know. It's so easy to imagine things being worse, when I feel like this. It's like staring down an infinite pit of ever-worsening suffering. There truly is no end to how much a human being can suffer. And that's terrifying. It feels like I'm free-falling down that hole, but slowly. I'm not experiencing the full force of gravity. I'm slowly floating downward, and I'm waiting to be teleported out by the next hormonal shift. But until then, I'm falling. I'm feeling worse and worse every second. And death is starting to sound appealing again. Just a little, at first. I haven't perfected my medication schedule yet. Maybe soon I can go a whole month without wanting to die.
