Hmmmm. Last night was rough for reasons I won't get into. Maybe I'm oversensitive. I don't trust myself to make rational or even adequate decisions pertaining to my life. I haven't screwed things up lately, but that's mostly because I avoid anything that could potentially make matters worse. 

I don't know... Some people are just there. Sometimes I wish I was alone, that people would forget about me, then I wouldn't have to be at war with myself. Because decision making is hard when you're depressed. Friends can be like a drug too but, lately, I haven't really wanted any. Maybe I'm hanging out with the wrong people though? Maybe none of this is really good for me, but I feel locked in anyway; friendship and family is a trap to be honest. 

It's a trap to care about people more than you care about yourself -- to prioritize them until you have nothing left to give. And then you realize that they never gave you anything besides maybe a few nights in their company. I think people give really shitty advice about mental illness -- too much honestly. It's exhausting to hear people who think they know what they're talking about tell me how to fight through my condition. I just want to tell everyone to fuck off, but I'm nonconfrontational and spineless in a way that most people probably are. 

People try to tell themselves that they'd do something in a situation. They tell themselves that they'll make the right choice every single time. But they won't and they often don't. People don't do what's good for them. They do what makes them comfortable. And that's the agonizing part. I have to work to free myself from this illness, except I'll never actually be free, and I don't even have the energy to do that because it's been sapped away. 

Sometimes I wish I could start over. A lot of people probably wish that to be honest. I used to write a lot, and it was interesting to see that the trajectory of my writing became increasingly grim-- if that's even the right word. And not really in an over-the-top or a fantastical sense. But it was human. I used to write fantasy, and then I sorta began to write about myself through characters that appealed to me because maybe they were me. 

I don't know. I hope I can find peace soon, and I hope it even exists.