Thought I was doing well. Awesome job with amazing people. Actually got health insurance and started using it. Talked to someone and got prescribed meds for the first time since I was a preteen. Hell I even got into a new car after spending my entire life putting around in shitboxes, praying they don't blow up on me. Mood has been great; work has been great. Really felt like after almost a decade of just scraping out an existence, I was finally taking steps forward.
But for the last three weeks it's been slipping. I can feel that old familiar shadow grabbing ahold of me and hijacking my thoughts. I can't motivate myself to do anything. I spend half of my day at work just browsing my phone. Each Friday I'm rushing to the nearest gas station to buy a 12 pack of whatever will get me fucked up the fastest. Only reason I don't do it every night is I started getting crippling hangovers back during 2020 when I was unemployed. I want to talk with my boss about taking a few extra days off as a bit of a mental break, but I know it won't change anything. Staying at home will only make it worse.
I thought I did everything right. It really felt like I was getting a handle on things; learning to cope and avoiding the pitfalls I had stumbled into time and again. Is this really just going to be my life? No matter what I do, change, or overcome, I'll just end up losing out to these goddamned brain chemicals. I finally see the appeal of blowing your head off with a shotgun. At least I can blow this grey wad of shit sky high as a fiery final fuck you.
I really wish I was as strong as the people around me tell me I am. Then they wouldn't have to be so disappointed.