I’m writing on my phone curled up in a rocking chair and smoking. I don’t know why that matters but it does. My depression and anxiety comes in waves and currently the tide has gone out though not an hour ago I was standing in the kitchen staring at the knives and trying to remind myself why I don’t cut anymore. This is confused sounding but I’m confused so fair enough. I can tell my sad stories I suppose. Bad relationship full of abuse messed me up. I’m now dating an alcoholic who ignores me and I’m afraid to leave him because I can’t stomach being alone. I’ve gained a bunch of weight from my medication and I’m so broke. I wish I could dissapear. If I could will myself into nonexistence I would have died a long time ago. So I know I’m smart and I have sweet family and I’ve got some talent but my life is so full of regret and I feel like I make more everyday. I want a wipe or a rewind or a do over but no such luck. Sometimes dying seems the most viable option. I can’t regret when I don’t exist.