My childhood friend just became a doctor. I know I should feel happy for him, but instead I’m just hateful of myself. Because I’m really not shit. Except shit.
Plainwhite
Plainwhite
I'm a simple, flawed, opinionated person who strives to bring positivity and encouragement to those who suffer. Sometimes I don't succeed, but I'll never fail out of a lack of trying. I suffer from depression, but I also fight for my happiness in this life.
I bet 90% of people here won’t ever do it.
BPD with ASPD traits. That’s my diagnosis. Some of you asked. Now you know.
I’m nothing. I’m nobody. I hate them all anyway. I hate what I am. I hate this whole fucking thing. And if I continue, I will keep suffering.
I hate them. I hate them fucking all.
[Keep Scrolling Down, Don’t Respond]
I went to a birthday party today inside of a Masonic Temple for a spooky girl I didn’t know. I didnt even really know the person who took me there. It was pretty much a complete stab in the dark. It was half fun, half terrifying. I couldn’t really talk to anyone until I got drunk.
I have like zero social skills.
And people were fucking in the temple room with the books & spears & thrones and shit. And I felt jealous because I don’t fuck anyone, and really can’t.
Can’t talk. Can’t fuck. Can’t relate. Can’t connect.
I must’ve already died and this […]
So. I went to community mental health. I was given a diagnosis I did not expect.
I feel quite unwell mentally. I’m paranoid of people. Isolating.
When is the right time to check-in to a mental health department? How do you know if your situation is bad enough to even ask?
Oh well