When I received my final acceptance letter, a door closed behind me forever. I have to keep living now, for how long, I don’t know. There’s no going back. Maybe it’s because I have been living with it for such a long time, or maybe I love to see myself suffer. When my mental condition gets better I live like a pot without a lid. But when it comes back, everything goes blank. Nothing is going to fix my problems, I have nowhere to go. I think I’m too attached to the negatives, because being angry feels good, because crying feels good, I can’t write anything pretty. I hope there’s a tumor developing inside me, or a parasite that’s eating up my brain, so I can, eventually, die a blameless death. I have nowhere else to go. I can’t climb the mountain while half of me is attached to the ground, but the ground doesn’t want me either.
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No ground ever complained about getting walking on it. No problem ever existed that couldn’t be resolved, or adapted to. But these things are all largely indifferent to how we feel about them. What we’re you accepted for?
were*
The first time I read this, it was kind of out of left field, as in weird because I thought getting accepted was a universal win….
Then I got a lead, a strong lead, and the existential terror I once considered impossible is now mine. Other people believe in me, god knows why. Half I want it to work out, half is expecting, maybe wanting it to implode.
Seriously, how is a used up person like me supposed to deal with someone wanting them around?! No idea, it’s so surreal I can’t wrap my head around it.