I'm just done. I'm just fucking done with this. I'm so tired of feeling like shit for no reason. I'm tired of eating once a day. I'm kind of getting tired of the ridiculous alcohol consumption. I'm tired of sleeping all the fucking time. I'm tired of getting shitty with people for no reason. I'm tired of missing Mike because I feel like this. I
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I'm not to the point of cutting-- this is certainly not bad enough for that yet-- but if this goes on for much longer I'm going to have to call my psychologist. I'm just always terrified that I'll get to the point of yet another breakdown. I don't know how many more big ones I can handle before it just gets to be too much.
After the 2 hour freak out early this afternoon, I've been alright all day. I'm glad Mike doesn't mind sitting on the phone with me just listening to me cry. And I'm glad there's music. I'm sure I would have killed myself by now if I didn't have music.
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Dale
http://doublefleea.blogspot.com
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That's NOT what my fucking twenties are for. This isn't just piddly teen-angst bullshit spilling over into adulthood, this is something that WON'T all calm down once I quit worrying about it, it's a fucking CHRONIC ILLNESS. I will never be able to go a day with out medication for THE REST OF MY LIFE. READ UP ON IT, it's a real fucking joyride.
Do you approach women in person with the same kind of tact that you did me? If you do, I bet you're up to your neck in pussy. What kind of women buy that kind of shit? Because I'm sure they're all top shelf.
Did you also use that same kind of tact when you took this? I'm sure telling Anthony he has nice tits buttered him up well enough for him to just let you have it.
You're pathetic. Go trolling in someone else's journal, Jackass.
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