Just crying myself to sleep

I’m not panicky anymore. Just full on depressed.

I know I am because I am this close to giving up.

If I go back on my meds, maybe I can numb myself enough not to feel my misery.

Maybe I can drink enough to get me through all the bullshit.

Maybe I can shove it all back down and keep it bottled up inside, silent and ignored and ever festering.

What’s one more year. There’s a chance it won’t kill me.

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