#i considered the other day if i should tell my dietitian and move the appt up half a week. but no. i'll be fine.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

living with depression, and maybe even a personality disorder, is like. everything is terrible nothing will ever be right again. my mutual posted a poem. i cried over it. all is well in the world. my back hurts. i am happy and joyful and the dark times are all past. i thought too hard about how the ticking clocks don't match up and now i'm upset. a kitten is curled up against my back. it's late and i've done nothing today. i have a book i can finish reading tonight. i want to kill myself. i smile over something a friend sent me; they love me. i can't bear to live any longer. dad was so insistent that grandma's upset is not my fault i'm just the target, that she still loves me, that he still loves me.

everything's backwards and forwards and never a moment to just exist completely neutrally or peacefully