It wasn’t a good birthday weekend, but maybe it was a needed one. Despite our time at the convention going well (I met Keith Baker and got print copies of GURPS Cyberpunk and the original Rogue Trader), it became apparent that Kerry and I are not ready to be in a relationship, especially with each other, for the foreseeable future. In my case, the dark clouds haven’t gone away. And honestly, sometimes it feels like they keep getting worse, no matter how hard I try. I was numb yesterday, but I was able to schedule some appointments and get some medications adjusted, so hopefully all that helps somewhat.
I could barely focus during Property this morning or during the Work-Study info session this afternoon. I was able to eat, at least. I lost five pounds over the weekend, which is both impressive and alarming. I’m not sure if I’m gonna go to D&D tonight or just stay home. I’m ever-so-slightly behind in LegReg thanks to an appointment last week, but I also missed D&D that week because I was miserable. And I know the only way to not be miserable is to do things, but I’m so miserable right now that I don’t want to do anything.
I have Crim soon, I probably won’t be able to focus. Something that keeps running through my head is a cliche I’ve often heard, that my mental health isn’t my fault, that I haven’t done anything wrong. But I’m too much. I know I am. And I don’t want to be, I don’t want to keep feeling like a burden on everyone around me, I don’t want to keep letting every little thing snowball until I break down. I wrote a stupid little poem (well, concepts of a poem) the other day:
I don’t want to let you go
I want to cling
Cling like a castaway sailor
Clings to a piece of driftwood
In a maelstrom
And I’ve realized that I am both the sailor clinging to life and the maelstrom. And for a while, Kerry felt like she had to be my driftwood. And it’s not fair to her, it’s not fair to me, it’s not fair to either of us. But without her, I feel like I’m drowning.
I guess I have to learn to swim. God, please have mercy.
