The shelter emailed me to let me know they’ve accepted my application and are very excited to set up a time to have me come pick her up! they said they’ll call me when they have the chance, either today or tmrw.
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Pulled 900 words out of my ass and spit them onto a google doc, I sleep now.
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i’m back home all comfy and cosy. i’m going to take a nap and set an alarm for my next lot of pain killers
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Ended up calling 988 last night. Talked with them for half an hour and it kind of helped, but only temporarily.
I’m still kicking, but barely. I know I need to take my medication but I don’t care enough to. It’s just not worth the effort, even though it’s within arms reach.
I missed a meeting with my manager at work. Today is one of the few days I need to be in person and I’m not there because I just…. Can’t make myself move.
I want to call someone and just have them talk to me because I don’t think I can speak. I want someone to force me to take my meds and go sit outside for a moment so that I can get the fresh air and stop rotting in my bed. Maybe that would be enough to force me to get dressed and go to work. Maybe it would heal me, just a little bit.
But I don’t have anyone I can call. My sister is in class. My mom is at work and I know she’d start watching me more closely again. My grandma has already probably noticed that my location hasn’t changed, but it would just be easier to lie to her and say I worked from home today than deal with the lecture. I haven’t actually talked to any of my friends, irl or online, in ages, either. Not in the way friends should, because I’m too self-absorbed to check in with the people I love.
I’m sorry y’all have to keep seeing me post about my bullshit. I know it’s selfish, especially when I haven’t reached out to anyone one-on-one in so long. I haven’t even made anything since inktober ended, so I can’t even offer something vaguely worthwhile.
I know people care, logically. But emotionally it feels like no one does. And I’d deserve it if no one did. I’ve been a leech for years. Even before the depression, I was too busy to be a good friend. I’ve been selfish for years. I think the only time I was worth something was back when I was in early elementary school. At least back then I was happy and energetic and earnest and kind.
I don’t know where that version of Macey went. I wish y’all had gotten to meet her, because she’s the version of me y’all actually deserve. Not this absolute wreck I’ve become.
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I don’t know at which point a fear becomes a phobia but there is a specific historical event/period that makes me nauseous with anxiety even when it’s only implied and I make nightmares about it. Like I had panic attacks during history class when we studied this era in high school. I even reached a point I can’t wear anymore some specific garments of my closet because it somehow makes me think about it and I felt terrible just looking at them (the garments are now in the donation bag I’m bringing to the charity shop tomorrow).
All of this to say that, tonight at dinner, my dad talked about a book written by someone who lived through these events and now I am fighting tears and nausea and I’m too scared to sleep and it sucks so much. I feel like this event will happen to me too and trying to rationalise it’s impossible bc it’s in the past doesn’t work.
I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!
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there will almost definitely be a gaming video tomorrow because i’ll most likely be driving all morning and that’s how it’s been going so far this week
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i ran off to bed fairly quickly last night after streaming but thank you to anyone who joined and chatted 🥹🥹🥹 y’all are too kind fr fr <3
ALSO, for anyone who isn’t a gamer, idk how i’d work out the actual logistics, but i could always do little chill sessions where maybe i’m writing or just chatting? maybe? who knows
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