![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm doing bad.
Like, BAD bad.
I swear I take my pills every day, but the depression and anxiety still slip through the cracks. I can't take work anymore. I just can't. I decided not to go to work today after my mother found me in the kitchen, laughing and blasting music as I tried to breathe normally and not throw up. Work's just too much, and it makes me want to kill myself, or at least hurt myself so I have an excuse not to come to work. It's THAT bad. I'll spare you people the details of what I was up to last night, but I think you can take a solid guess based on my little fucking breakdown this morning.
If I quit my job soon and use my vacation days, then I only still have to work this month. And even that is difficult. I hate my work. I hate the people at my work. And I just... hate working. You can call me one of those lazy Gen Z-ers, but let's be real here. I was born without my consent, grew up on this shithole of a planet (not your fault, Earth, it's us), then finally found something that brought me a bit of happiness (hanging out with friends), but then I'm being denied from doing that often because all of us have to work to get money so we can live in this fucking life we didn't ask for. I guess you can blame me for not just killing myself if I hate life so much, though. And often I think I should just kill myself. Problem is I'm scared and I want to wait to die together with Ad. Until death do us part, etc, etc.
I was supposed to have my next appointment with my psychologist on the 24th of this month, but I emailed the office yesterday to ask if I can have an appointment sooner, and so now I have one next Wednesday. Maybe I just need the dose of my meds upped. Maybe I just need to talk to my psychologist. Maybe I just need to quit my job. Maybe I'll be okay. Maybe I just need to believe that.
Like, BAD bad.
I swear I take my pills every day, but the depression and anxiety still slip through the cracks. I can't take work anymore. I just can't. I decided not to go to work today after my mother found me in the kitchen, laughing and blasting music as I tried to breathe normally and not throw up. Work's just too much, and it makes me want to kill myself, or at least hurt myself so I have an excuse not to come to work. It's THAT bad. I'll spare you people the details of what I was up to last night, but I think you can take a solid guess based on my little fucking breakdown this morning.
If I quit my job soon and use my vacation days, then I only still have to work this month. And even that is difficult. I hate my work. I hate the people at my work. And I just... hate working. You can call me one of those lazy Gen Z-ers, but let's be real here. I was born without my consent, grew up on this shithole of a planet (not your fault, Earth, it's us), then finally found something that brought me a bit of happiness (hanging out with friends), but then I'm being denied from doing that often because all of us have to work to get money so we can live in this fucking life we didn't ask for. I guess you can blame me for not just killing myself if I hate life so much, though. And often I think I should just kill myself. Problem is I'm scared and I want to wait to die together with Ad. Until death do us part, etc, etc.
I was supposed to have my next appointment with my psychologist on the 24th of this month, but I emailed the office yesterday to ask if I can have an appointment sooner, and so now I have one next Wednesday. Maybe I just need the dose of my meds upped. Maybe I just need to talk to my psychologist. Maybe I just need to quit my job. Maybe I'll be okay. Maybe I just need to believe that.
