My body is telling me to give up. Every cell is screaming at me to stop, to allow the inevitable to happen. As I was driving home from a doctors appointment a little while ago, my brain told me to give up, that we were done. We had reached a point where it didn't matter if we lived or died.
A part of me still wants to give in to temptation. My insulin pen seems to be telling me that it is time to rest, at last. I just need to pick him up and inject the full contents into my belly. I would slowly lose consciousness, and then I would be at peace.
The rational part of my brain, however, is winning, for now. My dreams will not become actions, I will stop myself. But at the same time, I am just so tired. Tired of the pain. Tired of the guilt. Tired of life. I saw my therapist today. I have officially been diagnosed, by her, with Major Depresive Disorder (I think that is what she called it), PTSD (where do I even start with that mess), and we are on our way to a specific diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria (possibly next week).
I am naming my demons again. Tonight they seem to have the upper hand, we shall see what the outcome is. I know that tonight is going to be rough, and I might need to write late on, just so I can have an outlet. And I know the Keeper of my Heart will be there for me tonight, as he helps me with my burden. It should be enough to get me to the end of this tunnel. Time will tell. God bless
Demons... rotten bastards...
ReplyDelete"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."