Parts of me want so badly to stop. That hate what I’ve become so much. But this stubborn resistance refuses and clings to existence. So I post here, in an attempt to relieve that feeling for a while. So for a time I can pretend that it’s not hopeless. In hopes of feeling a little less alone. Sometimes it works.
I’m not a cutter – generally averse to injury of any kind. But something to interrupt these feelings – this despair – that appeals right now.
This state will not last. In a few hours, it will have been pushed down again by some form of distracting dopamine. The reality will be suppressed, until tomorrow morning. When I will again spend hours torn between the savagery of my psyche and the exhaustion of my self-image.
I need a personality transplant. This one has no future. Tear it out, and replace it with one that doesn’t respond to reality in such a dysfunctional way.
I’m not constitutionally capable of reform. Too damn stubborn. The rot runs too deep in me. I refuse. I shall cling to my misery, even as it tips me toward annihilation.