Crybaby.

We all do things we don’t want to do.

The push:
I like to force myself into misery because I think if I don’t I’m being too easy on myself and I’m giving in.

The pull:
I wasn’t diagnosed correctly until I was 19, I believe. Up until then I had varying degrees intense struggle. Some stretched years, months, even minutes. I both overdosed and had a suicide attempt before I was correctly diagnosed. I know I have plenty to face in the future as well. I’m my opinion its unhealthy to not let yourself accept that it will get really bad again, maybe not worse, but probably just as bad.

When I tally it all up I feel like I have had a big chunk of my life stolen from me, and there is more to be taken. Which makes me think I need to focus more on what I want and actually need. Its hard for me to decide if that is just me trying to justify my own laziness and weakness or not.

Either way, as dramatic as it sounds, I was given a second chance. I don’t know why, but I was. I wanted silence and I wanted death that day. Had it not been for my mom just sensing that something was wrong then there is a good chance I’d be dead.

Maybe its foolish to waste the time and the energy on the things that I think that I should just force myself to do, sometimes for no good reason. Maybe not. Who knows.

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