I’m so tired. Why bother struggling to find insurance that lets me continue with my therapist. Why bother finding insurance at all. Why bother look for a job. Why put so much effort into a life I’m so tired of living? I know things won’t improve. That they can’t improve, really. Sometimes it might feel like things are better, but circumstances haven’t changed, it’s just the drugs making it not feel like it matters. I’ve given up on all these things that other people take for granted, and yet it still hurts to think about how I’ll never get there. I’m so tired of it, and I don’t see any way it ever changes. I just don’t want to continue on. Why do people have to care about me? If they didn’t, then I could just leave and not hurt them. Why isn’t acceptable for me to just say “actually, nah, life isn’t for me, see you never” and fucking die?

I’m pretty sure suicide’s inevitable. At some point, I’m just not going to care enough about the guilt and go through with it, it’s more just a matter of when that’ll be. Makes me sad my online friends won’t know for sure, but they’ll probably guess after a few weeks of being offline. At least I don’t have to worry about leaving work on short notice.