The aftermath.

I recently formed new bonds with people in my life. It was a byproduct of someone giving me a helping hand, offering a new life in a new place. I have been dealing with the same garbage for years, and this was the reason I wanted to die just a few months ago. I was deluded enough to think things could change, that all I needed was a little therapy, and a change of environment.

My mind is obviously still a cluttered mess after the big changes; I haven’t put any real work in. I no longer have an interest in changing or doing the work because I have grown apathetic. The amount of effort it requires to change is exhausting, daunting, and simply too challenging. The false sense of hope and support was nice, but it comes with strings attached. I have formed bonds with people who now love me, and it makes me feel a massive guilt for still being suicidal. The aftermath of my death would be devistating, where before, it would have been tolerable.