Then I sent this to T-
****trigger*** talking about giving up

Dear T,

Ok, look, it's 12:00 midnight and I'm crying. I'm taking my prescribed medicine so in a little while maybe I will be dreaming of glorious mountains, or faeries, or of a happy yellow day with little me running through crisp clean sheets drying on the clothesline. They smell great, btw.

I'm not upset that we are taking a closer look at my history. I'm glad that you know what happened to me.
I even asked for it...expecting some cathartic moment when I would unload a lifetime of unhappiness, gain understanding/insight and feel better. Well, the "feeling better" part is not happening.

So, why don't I feel better? What good does it do for me to feel depressed and cry about history now? How does that help me?

It just strikes me that crap things happened and yet I still tried....tried to be normal..tried to get good grades...tried to develop relationships...get married..have children..just like normal people. I certainly thought one day I would mature, catch up and feel normal... That didn't happen, either.

Right this second, I'm tired of trying.
I don't know why I try so hard to stay here.
It's really ironic.


I don't understand what I'm doing.