I've struggled with it before but it found new lows. I enjoy things a lot less than ever now. I can't escape the pain. Everything feels laborious.

I need so much help... But I guess that's too big of an ask for the universe.

I'm frequently made uncomfortable and disturbed by how unreal life feels. Several times a day I'm driven mad by that. My mind eventually wanders or I grow tired. Or boredom strikes. Despite the fear it strikes in me, as nothing happens I unknowingly shift my attention elsewhere.

Flickie kept me grounded. He knew how to prove to me everything was ok.

There's nothing anyone can say to me. The thing I need is impossible.

Forget I asked about donations. Mild comfort in the moment ain't shit in the eyes of my problems. I can feed my cats between my parents so... I'll just focus on their happiness.