I’m finding out that I can’t really speak when I want to. I am fortunate to have decent parents. They are not perfect by any means, and when it come to my problems, they have stumbled in areas. But at the end of the day I know they care. So I thought about trying to talk about my problems a bit. Nothing too in detail. Just that I really need this medication and therapy or I might not make it through the summer without some sort of small breakdown. But I couldn’t even say that. I couldn’t say anything. I did mention that I’m having trouble sleeping. But I couldn’t say anything else. I physically couldn’t. Every time I try to go to my mother with problems, I always end up breaking down. I don’t want to though. I don’t want to be a mess in front of others. But I also just want to be able to say something. To be able to speak. But my body is holding back so as not to cry but my mind isn’t strong enough to be able to just say something. I can’t get that balance of being able to at least vocalize my problems and not get overly emotional. I can’t seem to make myself cry by myself to let out some head pressure either. I can maybe manage a few tears, but not that really broken down crying that makes you feel a bit light headed at the end. I have 2 more days of work. I think the other people are starting to get annoyed. I haven’t even been employed 3 weeks yet. I have to make it to August. I can’t make it. What will happen when I really need to grow up and get a long term job? I think I’m broken. Like you wouldn’t use a bent nail to build something. You wouldn’t use a cracked monitor to do work on. So I think I’m not meant to be around. I realize that I don’t want to be suicidal anymore. I can’t seem to help the thoughts of wanting to die. I just don’t know what to do. I have an appointment tomorrow to renew my prescription. I don’t know if the medication will help at this point but I’m desperate. June is almost here. I need to drag myself to August. Time always marches on, but the issue is always in the moment. The problem always seems horrible in the moment. And when you are not in the moment, you are waiting for the moment. My last internship feels long ago and I don’t feel much about it. I do feel a bit ashamed, but in that moment I remember feeling fear. It’s vague, but I do remember feeling fear. So in a few months this whole ordeal will only bring feelings of shame, but in this moment I feel fear. The real issue is the perspective. Time moves at a constant rate no matter what you are doing. A second is measured the same way it is now as it was 100 years ago. But it’s the human perspective that really cripples me. A 9 hour day was ok to me a month ago but a 9 hour day this week feels like agony. Agony because in those 9 hours I have anxiety attacks, suicidal thoughts, and other horrible things. A month ago I set things at my own pace. The whole day wasn’t a nightmare like it is now. I don’t know. All I know is that in an hour or so I will try to go to bed, wake up 3-4 times tonight, wake up, dread waiting until I make it to work. I will then tell myself that I can make it through the day, but I know that I will just have more panic attacks and such. My mind is already telling me that if I just have five seconds of bravery, then I can end it all. Just five seconds and all the problems will go away and I can become nothing. I don’t know.