I'm going to try to be as candid and clear as I can while not divulging less than legal stuff and without rambling too terribly much.

I just got done with sobbing hysterically at the pathetic state of affairs which is my life. I took a Valium. Didn't work. Still sobbed and had basically an anxiety attack/existential crisis that left me a screaming, crying mess of what once was a person, sort of, on the floor.

Right now I'm calm enough to explain.

Maybe an hour ago, half hour ago, fuck, I don't know, I can't for the life of me keep track of time, I texted my girlfriend all this shit apologizing for being such a human mess and whatever else I idiotically spewed out in the text confession catharsis version of repeatedly throwing up, never quite getting it all out, but it's messy and stings the nasal passages and is just as disgusting each time. Really, a sad sight to see.

Nobody but her would get anything out of that other than, "Oh please, won't you quitcha bitchin'." She's at work I guess. Or asleep or something. She'll probably call me in a few hours. I might be asleep by then.

I'm hysterical. I just.

This month I've self-medicated arguably more than I ever have before in my life. It's quite startling how bad this habit's getting.

I'm having nightmares again, the kind where I wake up being simultaneously freezing cold and profusely sweaty, but also pain dreams. I feel pain in my dreams, and wake up in pain. It's. Ugh. Usually a sign that my mental state is less than ideal.

I was running away from my depression, but also from the feeling that my life has no meaning or purpose, and that I don't belong here. I mean you could use my nihilism against me and argue that it's all irrelevant anyways and that I could carve out a niche for myself in this world in spite of all that, but it's a haunting feeling that follows me wherever I go.

I'm so scared Lavender's gonna leave me. Fuck. Honestly I doubt it. She's known I'm a human disaster for years, she's conceded defeat to being helplessly in love with me no matter how frustrating of a person I am, as I have, with her, and all the frustrations she brings unto me. We just kinda keep coming back together like magnets.

We're beyond even trying to reason with it, honestly.

I messaged my ex, Weston. Fuck, he's so gorgeous, and patient, and kind. And wise. (L and I are poly so I mean. Don't jump down my throat over this.) Why do people like Wes and Lav want anything to do with me? I don't get it.

Anyways. He said he's conquered his addictions and feels so much better etc. Would be willing to help me.

And as I sobbed on my mum's floor she was like, "Just go to sleep. Just take some more anxiety pills until they work and go the fuck to sleep and we'll figure somethin' out in the morning."

We can't *really* afford to take me to the doctor this month, but whatever. She said we'd try. That'd help me a lot. They yanked me off Ultram without missing a beat (from the seizure, and since I'm on wellbutrin and it was likely that the interaction caused it) and I'm quite sure they won't keep giving me vicodins without drug tests or whatever, so I think I probably just...... will refill all my psych meds except for the wellbutrin so I can go back on it.

I'm legitimately done over-taking it. I get nothing out of it anymore, it does nothing for me.

I'm so legitimately done with my bullshit existence.

I just want a job and a wife and maybe a concubine or something, Idk. I've been dabbling with poly since I was 15 or 16 probably. Weston was actually the first to encourage me to do it, actually. I think he told me something like, "____ (my real name), I think you're woman enough to have another boyfriend, if you wanted one." Hahahaha. Even though I don't identify as either gender.

Anyway. My mind's a total mess, long story short. I keep running away from feelings of emptiness, hollowness, not-belonging-among-other-humans-ness. What baffles me is why I feel this way to begin with. I guess the emotional abuse I've endured and years of isolation have done a number on my psyche, but like. I'm not special. Why do I feel so different, for better or worse?

Anyway.

We're gonna try to get me a doctor's appointment for now, and some outpatient help maybe for later. ACTUALLY. Funny story. When I was re-registering with my mental health services place(couple weeks back), the lady who always updates my information and coordinates my inpatient stays at the CSU said I looked better than I ever have. I was well put-together that day. My hair was okay, I was wearing my Jurassic World t-shirt and heart pendant choker, makeup done quite elaborately. And I was in one of my rare good, chipper moods.

I tried to stress to her, "I am not nearly as okay as I seem right now," but she didn't take it to heart too much.

So. I might go inpatient at the CSU either this week or the next. I'm about 80% sure that's in the works, especially if I can't afford to see my doctor.