This is Going to Kill Me

In bed. Crying.

I’m fighting these ‘illnesses’/defects/conditions (whatever) as hard as I can. I promise I am fighting. I have two excellent reasons to keep fighting and they’re asleep in the rooms next to mine.

Sometimes I feel I am gaining ground.

Other times, like now, I only see hopelessness ahead. It frightens me. This is going to kill me. 

I don’t think I can do it. I promise I will keep trying. I won’t go easily. I just don’t see how I can win against this

How could there ever be a future me who doesn’t feel hollow, empty, and wrong? It’s not possible. The DBT is to teach me skills to manage these feelings, not get rid of them. With the best will in the world I just don’t see how I can face feeling like this forever. It’s like trying to push back water. Futile.

So I’m crying because I don’t want to die. And I’m safe now. And I’ll be safe maybe for years…I don’t know. I’m not saying I’m actively suicidal. I’m not. The whole reason I’m so sad is because I want live, not just exist but really live, and I don’t think I’ll ever manage that.

And then this will kill me. 

Fuck.

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