I have so many things that I should talk about but I have no one to actually talk to and so it just spirals in my own mind until it all blends together into one large suffocating breakdown that once again makes me think about how nice it would be to actually never breathe again
tried to hang out with friends to avoid the thoughts, it didn’t work so I cried for an hour, went back to spend time with friends to try and avoid the thoughts again, got confirmation that it would in fact be better if I was dead
didn’t sleep, been incredibly depressed, am 75% of the way through my reading goal for the year, do I spend a bunch of money I shouldn’t just to feel something
want to talk in depth about specific books with my friends but not doing it because I know I’m annoying and no one actually cares and so I just talk to myself in circles and occasionally force my boyfriend to listen to tidbits when he’s around
“But the Dominion I’d believed in as a boy—the castle on the hill, the ivory paradise to which I might one day ascend, if I was loyal and docile and good—was obscured to me now. Instead I saw a throne teetering atop a stack of bones. An appetite, unslaked.”
“I thought, despairingly, that love didn’t make cowards of us, after all; it made heroes, and heroes usually didn’t survive.” I think this book ruined my ability to feel joy