treading water.

can i get a fucking ETA on “this too shall pass”?

therapist: how are you? me: fine how are you

I’m the cat in the back seat

*voice of someone craving even the tiniest sliver of control* i could make a spreadsheet,

once i am perfect in every conceivable way i will be happy i can feel it

the fun thing about having a mental health crashout in your thirties is that sure yeah you're crashing out, but at the same time there's a part of you standing across the room smoking ben affleck style, going yeah yeah you're crashing out. you crashed out before you will crash out again can we wrap this up yet. and the most annoying part about it is that they're right, and that that does Not stop you from crashing out even a little. love and light on planet earth.

I hate having an internal monologue. Girl shut the fuck up.