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.