Don’t wait for me to come home

The sheer amount of willpower I’m having to conjure out of thin air in order to hang on by a thread is staggering.

I’ve put SO many systems in place to order to ensure I don’t revert back into those dark places. From meditation to strict workout routines and showering and brushing my teeth on cue every day.

Now I have to implement polyphasic sleep schedules and strict diet regimes alongside ever more rigorous scheduling because I’m fucking slipping mentally and I don’t want to do that.

Gonna pour all my energy into bodybuilding and school again like how I use to do it back in high school. Absolutely crazy to me I was in better “overall” health the majority of my high school career compared to the last 4 out of it and trying to navigate life with no structure and a botched suicide attempt. You know for as much as I shit on school and hated it, just wow did it work amazing at keeping me grounded and goal oriented. Even dealing with being homeless and living in a group home for a little bit to living in abandoned houses, I still managed to find success.

It’s really weighing heavily on me that my younger self dealt with what seems to be more bullshit but somehow managed to accomplish more. Makes zero sense. Absolutely none. Maybe I’ve just gotten worse overtime but I don’t feel that way. Who knows.

I have to dedicate myself to learning & growing. It’s the only thing I actually enjoy even when feeling like I want to set myself on fire.

Also can’t get Lissa out of my head and that’s driving me absolutely insane holy shit. I didn’t think I was co-dependent but maybe I was just in ways i didn’t realize because there were facets I wasn’t paying attention to simply because what was going well was going amazing. To think I’m such a fucking failure, it hurts. It really does.

Sometimes I lie down in bed and zone out. Eyes open but I can’t see anything. My body being vibrating and I feel an awful sense of dread. Haven’t experienced anything like this in years. It’s weird it’s a strangely family and comforting sense of dread. Talk about mismatched and confusing feelings on the perspective of existential despair and an impending sense of doom and embracing it but not wanting to die. Make that make sense, because I sure as shit can’t.

Pretty sure I’m dissociating daily at this point. Time passes where I can’t remember what happened and there is a large time dilation where it feels like mere minutes when it’s been hours. Very disorienting and also depressing because that’s nothing but time wasted where I could be using that to good effort in bettering myself and situation. Really been tugging at strings in my brain and things are starting to unravel.

Can you feel yourself start to slip into the darkness and be consumed by madness? Or does it happen all at once? At what point does in switch from slipping to being submerged in and how can you tell if you’re at that point? If I hold on tightly enough to my sense of reality can I break free again and emerge from it again? Or am I going to need help? I don’t want help. If I can’t do it alone then I don’t want to do it at all. I don’t want to be dependent for the rest of my life. I’d rather die. I want to succeed where people tell me I can’t. I want to do everything they said I couldn’t. I want people to realize they shouldn’t have given up on me. And I’m never going to hold it against them, because damn I’ve given up in myself before, but it would be nice to be recognized for grasping triumph from the jaws of defeat.

Here I stand at the crossroads of life and death.

The road to life is a path devoid of hope & full of death that is full of crags and pits in destitution.

The road to death is a path of life and ecstasy floating between clouds in the mountain tops.

Weird how the end destinations differ so much from the journeys of which to reach them.

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