This is my first post in a while.
Things aren’t good. They haven’t been good for a while. I’ve got some help, yet there’s only so much the white coat can do. The pen and paper have always been there for me and still remain.
I feel better now though. I’ve started laughing again. I’ve started talking to people again and not feel like there’s a slab of concrete in front of me. It’s been the worst month I’ve ever experienced.
But the one person I have to talk to, the person I need to sort things out with; won’t.
I think it’s already fallen apart. If I’m right, then one thing is more than certain- I always did my best.
It kills me not knowing what’s going to happen. It drags me down every day.
I think they’re scared of what the most likely outcome is going to be. I am too but if it’s going to happen I’d rather have a shot to the chest than a slow disease pull me apart.
It’s been fun though.
Won’t make another post.
Fuck You. Fuck you all.
