I am of three minds about my life right now, and I change which one is prevalent in my consciousness so often that I think I may be developing multiple personality disorder. 

Mind #1: Fuck this shit. I’m done. I’m so fucking done. My brain is fucked up, my chemicals are screwed up, nothing is going to fix me. I am making my life harder for myself and I can’t even stop myself. What the fuck is wrong with me. I’m a burden and I suck and I’m miserable and my life will never be more than this, and even if I have a potentially worthwhile future ahead of me, it isn’t fucking worth it anymore. I’m not dragging myself through the mud for years and years more just to maybe get some kind of reward. Nothing is worth this fucked up shit. (Eventually leads to #2)

Mind #2: Yeah, I’m fucked up. And yeah, things are rough but it’s worth it. My friends love me and want me here. My family – despite the fact that they don’t act like it most of the time – loves me and wants me here. People need me, people depend on me. If I can’t live for myself, I can at least live for them, and that’s enough for now. And someday hopefully things will work out and I’ll be happy, I just have to get through this shit now. And yeah, I am fucked up, and yeah, I am miserable and life sucks and its tough, but too damn bad for me. All of these other people’s well-being are worth more than mine, and I don’t want to be responsible for their unhappiness. So I’ll trudge through and be miserable, but at least I’m not hurting anyone else. Even if things never get better, at least I’m here for everyone else. (Either revert back to #1 or move forward to #3)

Mind #3: I feel ok right now. Wait, ok? That’s scary. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel ok? **deep breath** Maybe I should just enjoy feeling ok right now? Oh wait, I’m anxious about feeling ok now. Welcome back anxiety. See, I can never be ok. I won’t let myself be. Fuck. (spiral back to #1 or #2)

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME???

I can’t decide if I love or loathe the feeling of physical weakness I’m getting from not eating today. 

Part of me is saying “stop being stupid and just go have some crackers.”

The other part of me is saying “It is 2am, you’ve been so good today, don’t ruin it now.”

I should probably just go to sleep.

P.S. Had the realization today that I don’t really want to stop being depressed and anxious. I’ve been depressed and anxious for so many years. Not being depressed and anxious is scary. It’s new. It’s a way of life I don’t know how to live and keep up for long periods of time. And, of course, the higher you climb the farther you have to fall, and I’m so afraid of falling again. I don’t think I could handle a depression worse than this current one. It’s safer just to stay here than to risk falling farther. I know how to live like this… I hate it, its a miserable existence, and a lot of days I don’t want to do it anymore, but I know how life works when I’m like this. Which is that it doesn’t and I shouldn’t expect it to. Low expectations – again, can’t fall far if you aren’t going far. 

I’m pathetic.

I am a burden to everyone around me. I don’t even know why anyone wants to be my friend anymore. My best friends – amazing people – deal with me being depressed and anxious every day, all day, all the time. The rest of my “friends” don’t even care about me, they just use me and forget me so whatever to them. If I wasn’t around, they wouldn’t even have to worry about remembering me the few times they actually do. 

I am sucking money out of my parents when I’m supposed to be financially independent. I just can’t get a job that makes enough that also fits in my schedule… or any job besides tutoring, really. I have a college degree – I thought that is supposed to make finding jobs EASIER. 

But seriously, the few friends I have just deal with my crap day after day and it isn’t fair to them. 

And the BFX… well… that’s another giant mess of guilt and horribleness. I KNOW he is treating me badly. I KNOW that he isn’t even being a friend to me 99% of the time. But when I need him he is there for me. So basically the ONLY time we talk is when I’m having complete mental breakdowns. Like right now. Which isn’t fair to either of us. The whole thing just sucks.

I can’t live like this anymore. I’m a mess and I’m dragging people I love down with me.

Can I die now?

**edit** 
You know, if i actually didn’t eat then at least I could get some kind of positive out of all this mess – like, losing weight. Finally. But no. Instead I am really good all fucking day (80 cals today) and then binged tonight out of stress and depression and not knowing what else to do with myself because I can’t go smoke (~1000 cals). Goddamnmotherfucker. 

I’m fucking fat. And what did I do? I drank a shit ton tonight (ok, not THAT much… 3 beers and a shot, but that’s still a LOT of calories) and I had a fucking cupcake because my sister’s friends had a potluck at our house and one of her friends that I love a ton made them and asked me to have one and I didn’t want to be rude to her so I did.

FUCKFUCKFUCK

I only wanted 1 beer. Just one. But then a friend bought me the other two. And made me take the shot (which was a free sample from the bar). 

Also, pretty sure the only reason I got invited out tonight is because another guy (and possibly the guy who was buying me drinks) want(s) to get with me. And I had a good time, but I want to be worth more than a bang.

Well, I succumbed to cutting again about a month ago now.

So now my brain decides I might as well just stop eating again, too. 

Because, you know, food is evil and purposefully hurting yourself makes sense.

My brain: complete awareness that there is zero logic going on here and nothing I can do about it.

What even is a functional life?

I’m angry that I am 22 and I am no where near where I wanted to be in my life at this age.

I’m angry at the BFX for everything he has done to me.

I’m angry at someone who is being selfish and in doing so is going to hurt someone I care about a lot.

I’m angry that the someone I care about won’t listen to us when we try to warn him that she’s being awful.

I’m angry that I’m still not over the BFX. I really should be.

I’m angry that I can’t motivate myself to do fucking anything, including and especially things that would really make my life more enjoyable.

I’m angry that I don’t really even care about my life getting better anymore.

I’m angry at people who think they understand me. Even if they are just trying to help.

I’m angry that I am constantly bringing people down around me because I can’t stop being depressed.

I’m angry that I can’t be not anxious for 5 fucking minutes… that literally everything gives me anxiety for some stupid reason.

I’m angry that I can’t just be ok.

I’m angry that I can’t just do what I need to do to become ok.

I’m angry that it is so easy for me to say “he isn’t worth it anymore” but deep down I still don’t believe it.

I’m angry that I have a college degree but I don’t feel qualified to do anything.

I’m angry at everything. I’m angry at nothing at all. I’m angry at everyone. I’m angry at myself. I’m angry with the world. But I don’t blame anyone, including me.

I’m angry that I don’t understand why I am so goddamn fucked up.

Well, it looks like I’m alive in the year 2013. There were points, especially last week, that I seriously questioned whether or not that would happen.

I’m still a mess, I’m still depressed and anxious and I still don’t like the idea of having to deal with another year of this bullshit, but I’m alive.

That should count for something, right?

I am so fucking angry. I’ve been in an angry mood all day. I can’t even deal with myself right now. Don’t read any further unless you want to read a pissed off rant of a;ewipofjs;lkfj;d guh.

I am SO FUCKING MAD at the BFX. So done. So pissed. He is so full of fucking shit. 

We aren’t even fucking friends anymore. Friends talk to each other. Friends hang out every once in a while. Friends enjoy each other’s company. He won’t do ANY of those things, no matter how hard I fucking try. I have done NOTHING but try to fix things and be friends for the last 4 months. FOUR MONTHS OF FUCKING EFFORT. No, I haven’t been great 100% of the time, but neither has he. But at least I can say I fucking tried. And that effort has been COMPLETELY one-sided. And for some reason, everyone thinks I am the goddamn bad guy in this situation and I don’t fucking know why. 

Also, if you want to say you care about someone, that means you care about them ALL OF THE TIME. Not just when I fucking remind you that I’m alive. But he completely ignores me/forgets that I exist 99% of the time. He never fucking talks to me. He never even acts like he gives one fucking shit about my existence. But then as soon as I message him or call him its like “Hi I care about you a lot I do I promise” BULL MOTHERFUCKING SHIT. HE IS SO FUCKING FULL OF SHIT. HE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT ME. HE WANTS TO FEEL BETTER ABOUT HIMSELF AND ABOUT EVERYTHING HE’S DONE TO ME SO HE CONVINCES HIMSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE THAT HE CARES ABOUT ME. BUT HE DOESN’T. 

The worst part is, as angry as I am, and as much as I know that he doesn’t actually care (actions speak louder than words, motherfucker), I’m still probably going to keep trying. Because for some unknown motherfucking reason, I DO care. And I’m mad at myself for that, too.

Earlier today, I had the thought – verbatim – run through my head: “I want to slit my own throat.” 

About an hour ago, I had a sudden urge to shoot up. Yeah, like heroine. I’ve never done anything more than smoke a lot of weed and one time I accidentally robotripped (long story). Not to mention I have a massive phobia of hypodermic needles – without Xanax, I faint while they are putting the tourniquet on to draw the blood. But I wanted nothing more than to slam a needle into my arm and pump myself full of the strongest drug I could get my hands on. 

I feel like my brain is coming apart at the seams. I have moments where I feel mostly ok and then… its like I’m running through a field and then someone throws a brick wall up in front of me. And then I freak out, calm down, and keep running… and then there is another brick wall. Except the running is my ability to function and the brick walls are pure insanity. 

I would say I need help, but I am already in therapy. I’ve been in therapy since the end of August. I like my therapist. But this trip down insanity lane started while I was already in therapy, and it is only getting worse. I don’t get it.

But I can’t ruin anyone’s Christmas with this and I gotta get it out so… here ya go.

Not like anyone really reads this anyway :-/

I fucking TOLD HIM that I am suicidal. I had a few large breakdowns the last week and a half I was in RI and I texted HIM. The morning I left to come home to Philly for break I had to take my fish tank over to his place so he could care for it while I was out of town (easier to move the fish a mile than 250 miles, right?). He gave me a huge hug – the first real hug he has given me since we broke up – and he told me to “keep talking to [him].” But then he hasn’t talked to me since then. I mean yeah, the next day he asked if I wanted one of his fish (my favorite kind of fish), and we have had “hi how are you fine ok” conversations a few times, but he hasn’t talked to me. He hasn’t made sure I was ok. He hasn’t texted me first (other than if I wanted his fish). He hasn’t checked up to make sure that I’m alright. 

You said you would be my best friend. You said you would be there for me. Then why are you still acting like I don’t fucking matter even when my fucking life is on the line? I am starting to hate you, as much as I still love you. And it is leaving me in more pain and even more conflicted about what to do with you. And with everybody. And everything. Are you truly here for me or not? Are you still my best friend or not? I’m inclined to say not, with the way you’ve been acting. 

You have one last chance. One last chance to redeem yourself. And then, for my own good and my own safety, I might have to remove you from my life as much as I possibly can, as much as it feels like I am carving out every necessary internal organ I have to do so.