I sometimes wonder if anyone would care if I died.  Hell, if anyone would notice that I wasn’t here.  I don’t think so. 

I go to a doctor’s appointment on Monday.  First time seeing this new doctor.  Looking at the health history questionnaire.  Lots of questions about mental health on there, and I’m scared to answer them.  I know I will answer them truthfully, but that doesn’t make it any easier.  I’ve gotten to the point where just marking yes or no to a question is super hard.  Forget about trying to come up with complete thoughts when asked to describe in more detail the feelings.  In a way, I don’t see the point in being truthful, as I don’t want any more medications.  I’m tired of battling a demon that won’t go away.  I just want to learn how to live a little less painfully.  I don’t have high expectations.  Just want to want to get through the day alive.  Right now I don’t even want to do that. 

Wednesday is the appointment with my counselor.  I’m scared about that too.  I need to open up to him.  I trust him, so why is it so hard to open up?  Why does it feel like someone is holding me down when it comes to talking?  Why can’t I do something so simple that other people have mastered a long time ago? 

I’m tired of every day using all my energy just to come up with reasons to keep going on alive.  I want some peace.  I’m not sure if I care how I get that anymore.