I feel like I spend a lot of time mourning over the person or the idea of the person I felt I could have been if it wasn't for my mental illness and the trauma I experienced

My current place in life has me dwelling on this and realizing it's time to move on but it is so hard. I have days where I acdeept who I am, what I am capable of, and that I will move forward to succeed in ways that are realistic for me. That I won't keep setting myself up for failure by trying to mold myself into who I was suppose to be

But I have bad days, where I can't accept it and I put on the smile and laugh and surround myself with friends but it's eating away at me but I can't stand to be alone because I don't trust myself to be alone with those thoughts and those feelings, not right now, i have acted out too much lately to think I can keep myself safe

I think about the person that could have done what is essentially a dream job for me and succeeded, they wouldn't have had to resign because they can't handle the pressure, they can't get their broken brain to organize and complete things. I think about the person that wouldn't be a financial disaster, I think about the person that would never give into impulsive thoughts, that wouldn't desperately try to smack bandaids on open wounds. That person would have taken responsibility for themselves and gotten professional help before getting to this point. Getting to this place where I have jeopardized everything I care about, jeopardizing every relationship I care about.

That person would keep a clean home, would complete projects, would seize each day and make it the best day.

Some days it's a wonder I make it out of bed. Some days it's an uphill struggle to keep the voice in my head that tells me I am better off dead to a volume where I can function. It's hard to not believe I am poison, that I am a failure, a waste of space.

I only ever wanted to be good, I only ever wanted to do good, but I mess it all up. I mess up everything

I wish so desperately I could be the person i would have been if I wasn't so ill, if my brain wasn't so broken, if I wasn't infected with these memories and fears