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mentalillnessnotebook 21 hours
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too mentally ill to shower or take the trash out or anything. FUCKING God I need to plug my laptop in fucking God dammit I just got into bed. Fuck.
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ARE YOU THERE??? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME????
IF ANYONE IS READING THIS, YOU NEED TO KILL ME!
Hunt me down and end my fucking life! Make me pay for my fucking sins! Shoot me in the face, make my brains splatter all over the sidewalk! It's what I deserve! Everyone is out to get me! and they should! I'm the fucking waste of the earth, and I need to return to the soil! It's the only way I can do any good for this world anymore! You NEED to KILL ME!!!!!!!
there's nothing wrong with me actually, I'm just a self sabotaging cunt who likes to bitch about nothing and drag everyone around him down
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there's nothing wrong with me actually, I'm just a self sabotaging cunt who likes to bitch about nothing and drag everyone around him down
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maybe one day it won't hurt when I breathe anymore.
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No more eating for me!!! Need to kill myself a bit to keep myself from dying :p
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I fucking reek of garlic :(
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love love love the feeling of being a nuisance just by existing in the same room or closeish proximity to other people
random girl who I sat next to on the bus today I'm sorry I wasn't breathing heavy because I'm a pervert or whatever I just had to run to make the bus and I'm fucking asthmatic
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the world is so nauseating today
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I'm too much of a lazy fucking drunk to even take out the trash, after I keep reminding myself all weekend. lol. lmao.
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gonna have to end up emailing a professor apologizing for missing so many classes and never doing any work because I'm too broken and retarded to fix myself and get anything done so I have to go and get drugs to commit spiritual suicide and become normal, fucking god dammit no never mind I can just let it go. She'll probably just think I'm too busy partying or some shit. Then again she can tell that to the fucking college and they'll take me less seriously when I try to apply for my major or apply for scholarships, maybe I should just email her., Fuck..1! FUCK!!!!!
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I NEED TO BE ANALYZED BY PROFESSIONALS!!!!!!! THEY WON'T JUST GIVE ME MEDS, I NEED TO BE PERMANENTLY DRUGGED UP UNTIL I DIE!!!!!!!
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one of those days where everything is fine but you have a quick psychotic break and then realize you are much less mentally stable than you thought you were
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being an artist fucking sucks *doesn't make art*
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the internet fucking sucks because I can be scrolling through and then all of a sudden be shown a post or a comment that I made when I was sixteen.
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my entire state of being is open source, that anybody can edit to their will.
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it's that time of night once again.
the time of night when I doubt if I even enjoy anything, or if I simply do it because I must, because I have to keep up the facade that I still enjoy anything, the facade of being human. the facade of being real.
I was destined for death before my own time. As fun as being poetic about it is, I was literally supposed to die at some point during pregnancy. I lived though. I'm not sure what to do with that information, but considering all of the circumstances that led to me as a living, breathing thing, my upbringing, and everything that's led me from my soul being brought into this earth, to this very moment, sitting at my desk, typing this, drinking my many, many worries away once again, I feel the need to throw every passing thought onto this page, praying that somebody will see it, and validate my edgy rambles about "oh boo hoo woe is me" fucking life or whatever. I don't care anymore. Shit's finally getting better, no thanks to my fucking absent therapist. I don't know man. I hate this, I need to stop being a miserable fuck.
and yet, I'm kind of attached to this state of being. Holding on for these next couple of weeks. Because I know that once I start taking meds, and start to fix myself, I'm not going to be myself anymore, am I?
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every day is 4/20 if you're as much of a hopeless junkie as I am :D
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